


Infinite

by Katflap (Batman_in_Lingerie)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Aliens, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Anal Sex, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mermaids, Non-Consensual, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9544220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman_in_Lingerie/pseuds/Katflap
Summary: With the help of an alien artifact Bruce is travelling to more universes than he ever thought possible. The only problem?He can’t get back to his own.





	1. Universe: HK 896 997 146

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO ALL! AND WELCOME! 
> 
> So the idea of this fic came from me wanting to create a story where in I can write all of the AU ideas I have for Bruce and Clark and present them in a way that I haven't seen done before. 
> 
> Also I have a love of Scifi which may have helped fueled this fic... But its really only this chapter and the last one that will have an abundance of it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this first chapter, and it gives you an idea of what is to come! :)

Bruce always had a fascination with artefacts. 

There was something about being able to see into a civilisation by the pieces left behind that always seemed to draw him in. When he was a boy, his days were spent roaming around the manor grounds with his father on the hunt for arrowheads. They’d take their finds and spend the evenings cleaning and sorting them. It was always the highlight of Bruce's day. 

When he started construction of the Batcave, he uncovered the Wayne catacombs, and spent an entire month cataloging what he found. Going from tomb to tomb and researching about his long lost relatives that lived here long before he even existed. 

Whilst most of the items he found ended up in museums or being sold at auction to fund selected charities, he kept a few select pieces. Though they tended to hold more emotional than physical value. 

His collection of alien artefacts on the other hand differed in that regard. 

Justice League missions brought him and his colleagues to the very corners of the universe, and the universe happened to be a very big place. Most planets they helped had a tendency to offer gifts to say thank you for their help. Some would be mundane by human standards, such as an orb of water encased in ordinary glass. Most however, were not as harmless, and would destroy the Earth if placed in the wrong hands. 

One planet gave each of the League a small flower, which would have grown to fifty feet in height and exude carbon monoxide if planted in Earth's yellow sun. 

Another gave a creature to the League, describing it as a pet. It was similar to an eel, but would latch and burrow itself into human flesh, rotting the host from the inside and eating the decayed meat. The aliens who gave them it didn’t seem to think this was an issue.

Most of the items would be destroyed once back on Earth if deemed too unsafe. The rotten meat eel however didn’t even make it off planet. With Clark covertly releasing into the wild before hopping onto the Javelin. 

Other times though, if they peeked Bruce’s interest, he would hold them at HQ and run whatever experiments he could think of on them. Barry or Ray used to occasionally help him, jumping in with their own ideas and theories, but quickly realised they didn’t have the correct temperament to work alongside Bruce for extended periods of time. To be fair to them, not many people did.

Bruce’s own diligence however led to him finding out that the flowers could be limited in their growth by controlling their water supply, and contact with the sun. Their stems held an incredible density of vitamins, which if ingested by humans had significant health benefits. The fact you had to wear an oxygen mask around them however, limited their usability by quite a large margin. 

Each acquisition was a chance for Bruce to uncover something new, something no one else had ever seen before. It mimicked the same feeling he had when he was a child, finding something buried in the dirt only to rush back inside to learn more about it. He was astounded by how much history and knowledge lay just beneath the surface of his back garden. 

And if his garden had that much history. The universe was pretty much engulfed with it.

The League encouraged Bruce’s research, perhaps due to the fact that none of ‘them’ wanted to be the ones spending their time experimenting on plants that could potentially kill them. 

Clark was his only assistant, though that extended purely to hunting down items and bringing them to Bruce when ever he went off planet. He had tried in the past to help more practically, but accidentally smashing the water orb they had been given pretty much ended that idea before it started. 

It was always fun when Clark came home from League mission, rushing to Bruce with his box artifacts that he’d found whilst away. This time it was relics from the Sigma region that Clark was showing him. 

Bruce had wished he had gone along as he read Hal’s mission notes on the planet. The Selendrian’s sounded fascinating, but the Sigma region was a long way from Earth. Clark was off world with Hal and J’onn for two months in total and most of that time was spent travelling across the universe to reach the small planet.

Even if he were to have Dick take over the mantel and work with Damian whilst he was away. Even if Tim was to do a few more patrols to help them out. Bruce just physically couldn’t leave Gotham for that long to the boys. It seemed too selfish, but thankfully, as was the case with most missions when Bruce wasn’t there, Clark had brought home an abundance of items for him to play with. 

“Oh, and this was one of the mirrors I saw them using. They would just stare at themselves for hours at a time, helped them focus or something.” He reached into the box and pulled out the next item. “Also, we got another one of those water ball things, which is pretty good considering, you know-” Clark gingerly handed it over to Bruce who peered into the flowing liquid contained in the glass.

“Did they tell you anything more about it?”

Clark shook his head. “Nope. Same as the last one. Power of God, extremely valuable, etc. Etc…” He gave a shrug as Bruce set the orb down and allowed Clark to keep on with his antiques show.

The table was nearly full. Most of the items were just odd trinkets that Clark knew Bruce would like, others were valuable pieces of art that the Hall of Justice Museum could use, such as an onyx figurine of a woman currently sat in the middle of the table. Clark said she was a deity of the people when he’d pulled her out of the box. The word Aluranna was etched on the base. 

“Anyway, all of that stuff is nothing till you see this-” The final item seemed to be a simple gauntlet. The metal only covered the upper half of the arm, with the rest woven with fine cabling. On the front, a mix of brightly coloured stones and gems shone brightly. “This Bruce-” He thrust it forward. “Is a shialis.” 

Bruce’s face held an expression of quiet intrigue as he reached his hand forward, but Clark quickly stepped back. “I know you wanna get a better look at it, but you gotta know what it is first.” Clark gently placed it down on the table. “It’s a universe shifter.” Taking in Bruce’s look of wonder he went on. “The Selendrian’s use it to move between universes. It let's them take over the form of their universe's equivalent whilst still existing and being conscious in their own. Literally like being in two places at once.”

“When I first got there it blew my mind. They take five minutes to reply to anything you say to them because their brains are so bogged down in thought that they sometimes get lost in all. Imagine keeping track of your actions in multiple universes. Like their elder. He's currently living in over three hundred other universes, so it took him ages to actually speak with us when we met with him.” 

“He told us how with each universe he went to, he learnt more on how to better his own, making Selene the pinnacle of all the different societies he saw. I know you've read Hal's notes already, but it's just not the same as being there. It's a utopia in the fullest sense of the word.”

Bruce could feel himself staring at the gauntlet and Clark seeming to sense this, quickly stepped forward, pressing his hand against Bruce. “Hey, I know it looks tempting, but you don’t know how to use it yet. Hell, I had a go with it and still don’t know how to use it. One of the Selendrian’s had to come and get me when I got stuck.” 

“You got stuck?” 

“Yeah, I-” Clark cleared his throat. “The device kinda taps into your brain and sees where you want to go and, see, for the Selendrian’s that means going to the most sophisticated of universes with the highest peaks of intelligence. For me-” Clark shook his head. “It meant going to the Smallville.” 

Bruce tried to suppress his smile. “Your first and most likely only experience of another universe… And you went to a farm.”

“Haha, yuck it up.” Clark was smiling though, despite his tone. “The thing is though, you were there too. You were helping me milk the cows.” 

Bruce frowned and Clark went on. “When I showed up you were in the barn milking, and after getting over the initial shock, I started talking to you. Asking you about work and stuff, and then you said what work? And I said, you know, ‘Batman’, ‘cause you usually hate being away from Gotham and by the looks of it we’d been there a while.” Clark’s shoulders dipped ever so slightly, and Bruce didn’t miss how his expression softened. “Turns out, in that universe, you were never Batman. We had moved to Smallville to take over the farm with the boys. I was going to ask you more but then I came walking into the barn, and I did not look happy. 

“I tried to leave but the shialis takes a lot outta you when you use it, so it’s not really made for speedy getaways. Thankfully a Selendrian pulled me back at that moment and good thing too 'cause who knows what I would have done otherwise. ” He said pressing his lips together.

“Wait.” Bruce said. “‘You’ walked into the barn? As in...?” 

“Yeah.” Clark nodded, crossing his arms. “When I went into that universe, I didn’t take over, I went ‘in’. Properly. Turns out you only take over the sentience of your alternate if you train yourself to do it. Takes a lot of brainpower apparently...” Bruce gave a look of mock surprise and Clark rolled his eyes. “Yeah I know. I thought I was pretty smart already, but apparently not…”

Bruce came forward and kissed Clark’s forehead. “I think you’re plenty smart.”

“Really?” Clark pouted, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s waist as he spoke. “You’re not just saying that?” 

“Definitely not.” Bruce gave him another peck before pulling back, though Clark's arms didn't budge. “Now, can we head home, or do you have anything else you want to show me?” 

"I don't have anything else to show you, but I ain't moving until I get at least hundred more kisses.” Clark mumbled, as he nuzzled into Bruce's neck. 

“How about one more kiss and a private evening at home?" He pressed his lips against Clark's ear. "Just the two of us.” 

Clark seemed to ponder for a moment, though his face soon broke out into a grin. “That does sound like a good trade.”

“I thought you'd agree.” Bruce said with a smirk. “Now…” He gently pulled back, and this time Clark let go of him. “I need put everything away. I’ll meet you at the manor.” 

Clark nodded vigorously, quickly coming forward to capture Bruce’s lips with his own. “Alright. I’ll head on back. Just make sure to hurry, okay?” With one last smile, he was gone. 

When he was alone Bruce quickly went about storing all of the artefacts. The last thing he needed was to find out Barry was lost in space because he didn't know how ‘not’ to touch something. 

The mirror was beautiful when Bruce gave it a second look. It was wrapped in tendrils of silver encasing the reflective surface. He started to feel a headache coming on the longer he looked at it and quickly set it down in the box. Beside it was the onyx figure he saw earlier, and on closer inspection, her face was somber as she looked down at an item held in one hand. It was difficult to see what it was. 

The statuette itself did give an idea as to what the Selendrian’s looked like. They were beautiful creatures, long limbed with soft gentle features. As he lifted the statue and peered closely, it almost felt like it was watching him, though he quickly dismissed that idea with the shake of the head.

The gauntlet however, was the thing Bruce felt most drawn to and couldn’t dismiss as easily. 

He was well aware what he was doing was beyond idiotic, but the issue with hindsight was that it came ‘after’ the fact.

He gently slid his hand into the metal, and the straps seemed to tighten of their own accord. He moved his wrist a few times and sure enough the material flowed easily and allowed him free movement of his hand. He touched the gems with his other hand and they admitted a soft hum at the contact. 

Bruce was aware his vision was going fuzzy, he was aware he should rip the gauntlet off before it was too late, but his curiosity got the better of him, and before he knew it he was gone. 

Where he woke up, he couldn't say.


	2. Universe: AO 657 988 145

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, totally did not meant to let x amount of months pass, but honestly my writing style is not conducive to a weekly schedule. I just write when the mood hits me and when I do write it could be the middle of a chapter, a chapter in the middle of the over all story or one near the end (or even a completely fic). For instance I have the next 6 chapters for this about half way done, but none have endings yet. This one was half way finished when I posted the first chapter and after literally half a year of not being happy with it I finally got the motivation to finish it. Is it exactly what I wanted? No, but I know me, and if i don't post it now, its not gonna happen at all. Anyway, sorry for the word vomit, please enjoy this chapter. :)

When Bruce awoke it was largely due to the considerable throbbing coming from his head.

His eyes hurt, his brain hurt. It was safe to say most of his body was in some form of pain.

He lifted himself up slowly and saw that he was home. He fell back in bed, his eyes scanning the room.

Yes, he was definitely home. He tried to think how he got here, but all that seemed to do was worsen the ache in his head. Perhaps he passed out trying to use the shialis. Maybe Clark got impatient and came back to the lab only to find him knocked out on the floor.

He was still wearing the shialis, but Clark probably didn't know how to get it off of him and thought it best to just leave it. After a moment he got up, though it took a monumental effort to do so. His head was throbbing wildly now but he hoped a splash of cold water and the strongest pain killers known to man would help.

The first indication something was wrong was when he tried the handle for the bathroom and it didn’t open, he frowned and tried again and when he did, it opened and Bruce was confronted with a very familiar face.

“What-”

There he was, his other self. Eyes wide with panic. His hand wrapping around his stomach, pulling his robe shut. “Clark!” He yelled, and before Bruce could say anything Clark was on him, his hand wrapped around his neck.

Well... Shit.

“Who are you.” Clark ground out, Bruce’s mind faltered as he caught a glimpse of this Clark. He looked almost identical to his own, it was just the voice that caught him. It was harder, almost a growl.

“I’m Bruce.” He said, and Clark’s hand tightened even more. “Look, I can explain-” But his voice was cut short by the grip.

“Listen.” Clark moved to stare him right in the eyes. “This is a good deception, I can tell you’re doing your best. Hell, I would have put you in the top ten for Bruce impersonators, if you only remembered one teenee tiny detail.”

Bruce felt his blood run cold. He was struggling to breath, his lungs burned.

Clark leant in close, his eyes narrowing to slits. “You didn’t get the scent right.” He said with a subtle sniff. “I don’t even know what you are… But if you think you can come here and hurt Bruce-” The hand tightened further and Bruce let out a strangled cry.

“Wait.” The other Bruce came forward, seeming to sniff the air as well. If Bruce wasn’t about to pass out from the pain and or lack of oxygen he may have taken note of the gesture, but as it stood he was still attempting to keep himself conscious. “I don’t-” He came in close, his eyes peering into Bruce’s. “This is strange.”

“Well, I mean you’re not wrong hon but-”

“No Clark.” The other Bruce gently touched his arm, and as if that was all it took, Clark let go. Bruce breathed in deep, his hand running across the sensitive flesh. His other gave him a sympathetic look before turning to Clark. “I mean, I've never seen _this_ before.” He said waving his hand in Bruce’s general area. “He has no scent what so ever.”

“So? He’s got a good damper, we interrogate him, see what he uses and find out who sent him.” Clark didn’t seem to share the others acceptance of the situation and Bruce felt this moment was only going to be a brief respite from his oxygen deprivation.

His other looked pensive, watching Bruce intently. “No. You know a damper can’t eliminate a scent completely, just disguise it, this is-” He moved close and Bruce could see the muscles in Clark's jaw tighten at the movement. Ready to snap if he so much as blinked too strongly. The other Bruce leant into his neck, his nose running along it in a strangely intimate manner. He pulled back, his eyes fluttering open. “Who are you?”

Bruce sighed, trying to think of what to say as the two watched him curiously. “I’m you.” This caused suspicious glances from both of them but Bruce continued. “I’m from an alternate reality. I used this device-” He lifted his arm up. “-and it brought me here by mistake.” He said the last part at Clark who still didn’t seem convinced.

They shared a look. “So you are me? Just from a different universe?”

“Yes.” He nodded, and he could almost cry when his other nodded back.

“Well, I mean, do the heart beats check out Clark?” The other Bruce said, turning to Clark who still held a look of trepidation.

“They do, but-” He looked to him, and muttered in Kryptonian, apparently unaware or perhaps testing Bruce to see if he could understand. “ _Do you really trust him, he could be trying to kill you or-_ ”

His other gave a roll of the eyes. “Clayface tries to impersonate me once and suddenly _everyone_ is trying to kill me that way.” He looked pointedly at Clark who seemed to recede into himself. “Okay Clark, if it makes you feel better I’ll ask him something only I know.”

Clark seemed to agree with this and folded his arms, his hard stare back and fixed on Bruce.

“If you’re really me… When did our parents die?”

“June 26th, 1996. 10:47 pm, we were all leaving the Mask of Zorro.” He cleared his throat. “They were killed in a botched mugging.”

Clarks eyes blew wide as he looked between the two. He brought his hand to rest on the small of his partners back. “He’s right Clark.” His other said softly.

Clark nodded, and almost immediately the aggression in his body was gone leaving a Clark Bruce recognised. He still moved close and gave him another sniff, mimicking the movement across his jugular. He hoped Clark didn't hear how his heartbeat jumped. “It’s weird though, he looks just like you but-” He shook his head. “The smell is all wrong.”

Bruce found his curiosity peaked. “I have to ask, what kind of universe is this?” He gestured to his other. “I smell different? That's the big divider in our universes?” He supposed it could be possible.

Clark’s eyes opened wide. “Wait, you don't have castes where you’re from?”

“No?”

“Oh.” Clark looked back to his Bruce, before gesturing to the door. “Well that explains the lack of scent...Maybe we should go somewhere we can talk more about this.”

They ended up in the kitchen and after a quick explanation to Alfred, who didn’t look at all surprised by the appearance of a second Bruce, they all sat around the table, sipping on freshly brewed tea. “In our universe we have something called castes. There are three different types. Alphas, betas and omegas and depending on what caste you are, changes where you sit in the pack.”

“Like wolves.” Bruce offered.

The other Bruce nodded and turned to Clark. “Most packs follow the hierarchy set by society, where the alpha is the head of the pact, but we aren't like most packs. Clark being Kryptonian has something to do with it.”

“So. Despite being an alien, you still have the same biology as me? Well, Bruce.” He looked at himself and felt a bubble of discomfort. It felt inherently wrong to be here, in his house, with Alfred, sipping tea and yet this wasn't his house. He didn't belong here and he knew it.

“Well yeah. I take it in your universe I have similar biology to you too?” Clark leant forward, resting his arms on the table. He peered at him thoughtfully and the undue attention made Bruce flush.

“Yes. You do.” He thought of Clark. His own Clark, and a pang of loneliness swept over him. “He does.”

His other leant forward and gave a small smile. “Well that's good. We often marveled about how well Clark fit on our planet. Despite being non human, he is the equivalent of a high level Alpha.” He turned to the man beside him, his smile tender. “I was very lucky to find him.”

Bruce stared at the moment of closeness before his attention was drawn to the appearance of a child at the door. He stood looking in, his face rife with curiosity. Clark stood up immediately, walking over to him and scooping him up in his arms. “Mornin’ Tommy. You want moo moos?”

The child nodded and eyed Bruce suspiciously though he allowed himself to be carried over to the other, laying on his lap he worked the shirt open. “You're ready to offer him milk, but it's not you nipples he’s chomping on...” Despite the snark, there was no anger in his expression.

Clark gave him a sheepish smile regardless. “Sorry hon...” He sat back down, before catching the look of bewilderment on Bruce’s face. “Oh. I guess we should introduce you. This is our son. Thomas.”

Bruce watched as the child suckled away, oblivious to the looks directed to him. “You have a son.” He said, his voice surprisingly even.

“Yes.” Clark grinned.

He caught the boy’s features. Clarks skin, Clark’s mess of hair, but when he opened his eyes... He didn’t know what face he was pulling but as Clark looked between him and his child, his mouth fell open. “Oh, since you're not an omega you probably don’t-”

“He’s both of yours.” Bruce offered quietly.

His other nodded. “Yes, after years Clark managed to convince me to have a child.

“And by convince he means begged. Daily.” Clark gave him a rather pointed look. “With how much you liked children I thought it was a no brainer but, nope!”

“You can’t deny how much trouble it has been Clark.” Despite the words, he was smiling gently as he petted Thomas who was now done eating and sat reclined in Bruce’s lap, staring at the stranger with his father's face.

Eventually Thomas lowered himself to the ground, with a little help from his father and walked over to Bruce. He looked up at him, his grey eyes blown wide. He pointed at his shirt. “Moo?”

Bruce felt his cheeks brighten. “I don’t-”

“Hey hey Tommy.” Clark came forward scooping the child into his arms. “That ain’t you baba, this is-” Clark regarded him and pursed his lips. “Uh, your uncle…?” He sent a look of pleading to the omega, who rolled his eyes in return

“Get him washed and dressed, Clark.”

Clark didn’t object giving a mock salute and carrying the child away. Bruce couldn’t stop staring after him, his own eyes looking back. His stomach felt ready to empty. His other’s stare were warm as he reached forward and touched his hand. “If you need anything just let me know.”

“Sleep.” Bruce said automatically. “Sleep. Painkillers and food.” He looked down at the shialis. “This thing really takes a lot out of you when you use it, and if I want to get back home I need to rest.”

His other nodded. “Of course, I’ll have Alfred prepare you the spare bedroom.” He got up and walked over to the fridge, pulling out a plate of leftovers and throwing them in the microwave. “I would ask if you need help getting around but-” His lips quirked. “When you’re feeling better I would appreciate talking to you more.” With a nod he left the room.

When the microwave pinged Bruce hoovered down the plate. It was scalding, but he didn't care, the saltiness of the meat temporarily aided the ache behind his eyes.

Once up in his room, well, the guest room. That took another moment to adjust too, he never slept in the guest rooms of the manor, and the fact he was now didn't help the feeling of displacement he had. He saw a box of aspirin on the bed and quickly swallowed two before falling down into the bedding. He wasn't aware how exhausted he was until he blinked awake and saw that the sun was now setting, he must have slept throughout the day.

His headache, and general body ache were gone, but when he tried to lift himself up, he found he couldn’t.

He frowned. He must have been weaker than he realised, he tried again and felt some resistance, he looked down and felt himself jump when he saw someone peering at him.

“Um.” He said quietly.

“Moo?”

“Uh.” Bruce felt his brain fry immediately, and that momentary paralysis was apparently all the child needed before opening Bruce's shirt. “Clark?” He called out, his voice higher than usual. He didn’t know if this Clark would come when he called, but sure enough when he turned his head there he was, now stood beside the bed laughing softly.

“Of course you’d be here…” Clark came forward and scooped up the wriggly toddler, he kept grappling for Bruce and whining as Clark kept him restrained. “Sorry about that… He’s just a bit of a greedy guts.”

Bruce pressed his mouth shut, as he looked closely at the child again. “It’s fine. I just didn’t want him to find out the hard way I didn’t...” He trailed off. “Does he really think I’m, his, you know-”

Clark thought for a moment before giving a small shrug. “I don’t think so. For one thing you don’t smell like Bruce so he knows you’re not his baba.” Clark did give Thomas a mischievous smile before continuing. “He probably just thinks he can get milk from you if he tries hard enough.” Clark however stopped smiling as he brought Thomas up a tad to better see him. “Tommy, this baba doesn’t have milk. Only your other baba does.” Thomas didn’t seem to want to listen and kept making grabs for Bruce.

“Uh, okay, um.” Clark pursed his lips. “I only see one option here.”

Clark set the wriggling child onto Bruce’s chest and to Bruce’s alarm unbuttoned his shirt. So taken aback by it all, Bruce simply lay dumbfounded as Thomas giggled with joy and latched onto his nipple.

It hurt.

Alot.

His other was not lying. He really was gnawing, and after thirty seconds of nothing Thomas pulled back, a cry on his lips as he swatted at Bruce. “Hey!” Clark pulled him up. “Bad Tommy, don’t go hitting people.” Thomas, now thoroughly dejected, lay limply against Clark’s shoulder, pouting. “See. Told you it would work.” Clark said sheepishly. “I mean, it kinda did. He knows you don't make milk now.” He finished off lamely and Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Great. Now I have a bleeding nipple and a child who won’t look at me. This was clearly the best outcome.” His voice was flat and Clark’s face quickly morphed into a grimace.

“Wow. You even have the same deadpan...” Clark rubbed the back of his neck. “Also ignore him, he’s only pretending to be upset, he’ll go back to bothering you sooner or later.” He said with a wink.

“All I ask is you don’t let him attack my other nipple. My Clark happens to be rather fond of them.” He meant it as a joke, but the way Clark’s face grew red at the remark made him change the subject. “So, where is your Bruce? He said he wanted to talk.”

Clark, for a moment didn’t reply as though lost in thought, but soon jolted to attention. “Oh yeah, he’s in his study, gotta warn you though, the medication he’s on makes him cranky so if he seems a bit-” He waved his hand. “Just a warning.”

“He’s taking medication?” He asked as he got up from bed, Thomas gave him a side eyed glare before burrowing back into Clark’s shirt. He almost prefered being pestered for milk than this.

“Oh yeah.” Clark said easily. “Cause Bruce is an omega he takes medication to suppress his heats.”

“Heats?” They left the room and Clark’s face returned to its thoroughly flushed state.

“Yeah…” He gulped, his voice going quiet. “So, uh, like Bruce goes into monthly heats where he’s-” Clark paused. “Amourous, you could say.” Clark coughed and when Bruce caught his meaning he continued. “Well, it was fine when we weren’t parents, I could ‘help’ him through his heats, but with Tom-” The child looked up at the mention of his name and Clark kissed his forehead. “We can’t be away from him that long at a time so Bruce decided to go back on the pill, at least until Tommy’s is old enough to not go looking for his baba every time he’s hungry.”

Bruce couldn’t help but smirk. “Had him walk in on you a few times already, I take it?”

Clark’s face grew sour. “You have no idea…” He shook his head. “I love my son, but it’s been awhile since we’ve-” Clark looked at him pointedly and Bruce couldn’t help but give a small laugh at the expression.

The study was just how he remembered it, though the books on the shelves appeared to be of a different nature than what he was used. Child rearing books made up a long row across the room. His other quickly flicked his eyes up from his computer when they walked in. “Good, you’re up.” He said tersely and when they stood staring at him, he rolled his eyes. “Sit.”

Bruce looked to Clark who gave him a shrug as if to say ‘I told you so’, before walking forward and giving his Bruce a quick kiss on the head. “You want me to make you some tea?”

His other gave a small nod and Clark walked off, leaving them alone.

They didn’t speak as his other kept typing away on his computer occasionally looking away to eye Bruce. Clark returned with a tray of tea and biscuits. Thomas walked behind him with his own tray, though his held little more than a plastic cup and bowl, when Bruce sent a look to Clark he smiled. “He likes to think he’s helping.” He said quietly, and Bruce nodded as Clark reached for the small tray held by his son and set it down next to the china. “Need anything else, hon?”

“No. I’m fine.” He paused his typing. “Thank you.”

Clark gave another mock salute, pulling Thomas into his arms. “Alright buddy, gotta let baba and baba talk now, say bye bye!” Clark turned the child in his arms and though one hand was clamped in his mouth he used the other to give a small wave.

His other grimaced when the door shut, rubbing his stomach in circles. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to seem so short, but-” He shook his head with a sigh.

“Clark mentioned you’re taking medication.”

“He is correct.” His other reached for his tea and sipped it slowly, when Bruce reached for his own cup he almost gagged at the smell. “Sorry about the tea, it’s a special blend.” Even the omega grimaced as he took another sip. “Sadly you won’t feel the benefits as you don't have a uterus, so maybe just stick to the biscuits. I doubt you’ll want to drink it for the taste.” He said wryly and Bruce didn't need to be told twice, setting down his cup gladly and reaching for one of the pieces of shortbread.

“So.” He began as Bruce finished off his first biscuit and went to his second. “Do you have as many questions for me as I do for you?” Bruce nodded, his mouth full. “Good. Because I have to know-” He leant forward. “What is your universe like?”

“I don’t even know where to begin...” He tried to rack his brain for anything discernible but nothing came. “I mean… We don’t have castes it seems, and other than that-” He gave a meager shrug, expecting his other to roll his eyes at his attempt at answering, but was greeted with nothing short of awe.

“To you it may be normal, not worth mentioning, but to me-” He smiled. “It’s incredible. You don’t have a caste. No one in you're universe does, and yet, the similarities we share…” He looked down at himself for a moment. “I can’t even begin to imagine what's occurred in your life, you must-” He let out a small breath. “You must be able to do whatever you wanted.”

“Can you not?” Bruce said cautiously.

“Not entirely.” He rubbed his stomach as he reached for his cup. “Omega’s are seen as lesser citizens here, whose existence should be dedicated to having babies and looking pretty.” He scoffed at that. “It’s unheard of for an omega to be in a position of power, most think we’re incapable, our heats making us ‘irrational’.” With a roll of his eyes he carried on. “It’s all nonsense of course, but people are set in their ways and it’s taken me pretending to be a beta to get anywhere in life.”

“How does one pretend to be another caste? If what I heard earlier was anything to go by it seems to be a difficult.”

“You’re not wrong. But you can dampen your scent, make it that of a beta if you have the money and the time to commit to the schedule required to maintain its effects.” He sipped at his tea. “That of course isn’t even including the heat suppressors. Clark coming into my life saved me in many ways, my health was taking a serious nose dive from all the medication...”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”

“Well.” He set his now empty cup down. “Yes you don’t get heats, but the way it does that is with bombarding your body with chemicals and hormones. It's a short term solution at best and I was taking them monthly.” he shrugged. “I’m on a new course of drugs now, less offensive. I can even get it over the counter rather than through black market means thanks to Clark.”

“How do you mean?”

Bruce quirked a brow. “Well, one can only get prescription heat suppressants over the counter is one is a registers omega, which I was not. Clark's wanting of children was what led me to register. I couldn’t just not show up to work for nine months and return with plump breasts and a now unexplained child and think people would still buy that I was a beta.”

“Makes sense.” He nodded. “The breasts I mean, I don’t know about you but I turn up to work with unexplained children quiet frequently.”

His other balked at that before realisation dawned. “I was wondering if you had the boys as well, guess that answers that question. I assume they’re as much a joy to behold for you as they are for me.”

“Oh, of course…” he smiled. “I’ll just pray for you that Thomas turns out nothing like them.”

“I would appreciate that.” His other leant back sighing. “Though I can’t complain too much about the boys, they helped me remain somewhat affluent despite what the courts wanted.”

“Oh?”

“When it came out I was an omega, I knew some members of the business would try and push me from the company, especially if I was going to be having a child, so I had to take some precautions. I made Lucius acting CEO and gave the company to Tim. He was the one most keen to take over from me so it made sense. I put my money into as many offshore accounts as possible, and disguised the rest of it as inheritances for Dick and Jason. Once everything was ready I did a press event revealing I was an omega and sure enough, everything I thought would happen, did.” He gave an easy smile as he spoke. “However, as I had prepared for it all nothing they did affected me, they tried to take my money, I didn't have any left to take. They tried to take the business, it wasn’t mine anymore anyway. Honestly if i didn't have the boys I don't know if i'd have anything. I work through them, I live through them. Hell, Jason and Dick are still paying off what I spent on Thomas’ first birthday.”

“Speaking of Thomas… How was the pregnancy?”

“It was okay.” His other frowned. “Well, as okay as nine months, of no sleep, nausea and rapid mood swings can be. How Clark didn’t try to suffocate me in my sleep I will never know. By all accounts I was a _disagreeable_ to say the least.”

“And-” Bruce felt himself blush. “How was the birth?”

His other smirked at the question. “Why Bruce it was great, my vagina and I are thankfully back on speaking terms and we both hope to never experience that pain ever again.”

Bruce was thoroughly red now, and cleared his throat. “Forgive me is that seemed like a stupid question.”

“It wasn’t a stupid question.” He was smiling brightly. “Be lucky you never have to experience the pleasure of birth, and I can confirm for you it is far far worse than getting hit in the groin.”

“You-” Bruce balked. “You...?”

“Yes, I have both organs.” He said as though he was discussing the weather. “And before you ask, yes.” He smirked. “Yes I can.”

“How did you-”

“I am you. I know exactly how that mind of yours works.”

They ended up talking for over an hour. Due to Bruce’s having slept away a good portion of the day, he didn’t realise how much time had passed until he caught a glimpse of the night sky from the window. “I didn’t realise it was that late...”

His other glanced at where his eyes were drawn, and raised his brows at the blackened sky. “Oh, you’re right.” He shook his head. “I should go check on Clark.”

They found him asleep on the couch, with Thomas bundled up close to his neck, his other quietly approached them and with a gentle touch roused Clark. Quietly he asked “Have you both eaten?”

Clark shook his head, though it quickly dissolved into a yawn. “Naw, we were gonna wait till you both were done, then we kinda-” he let his eyes fall to Thomas’ sleeping form. His other smiled and ran his hands along his sleeping head,

Bruce watched the scene with an odd ambivalence. He felt as ease, serene even, but jealousy swiped at him with a unrelenting frequency. He didn't want to admit he’d made wrong decisions in his life, Hell, they made him who he is. But he often wondered who he’d become if he were more of a father to the boys, more open, and with a grim realisation he wished it wasn’t too late from him to change. 

“So Bruce,” he was pulled from his reverie and looked towards his other. “Staying for dinner?”

He thought for a moment, his eyes falling on the scene before him. A sleepy Clark, a dozing baby, and he realised he wanted to be home now more than ever. “Actually I think I better try heading home.”

“Well I guess this is goodbye then.” Clark said as he tried to get up without jostling Thomas awake, after a moment a thought seemed to dawn on him and he averted his stare to the floor. “Hey, feel free to say this is a terrible idea…” And already Bruce felt himself rolling his eyes and judging by the sigh from his other, he was displaying a similar reaction. “Hey, I don't need you guys judging me in stereo, okay?” His face was red as he looked at Bruce pointedly. “Do you think you could watch Thomas for a bit?”

His other frowned. “Clark!”

“What!” He said, his voice strained. “Bruce it’s been so long, and if this Bruce looks after him we could-” He shifted on his spot and clamped his lip between his teeth. “We wouldn’t be long…”

“You’re really selling it.” His other said blandly.

“I’m sorry okay!” He sighed heavily. “It was just an idea…”

Bruce came forward and reached for Thomas. “I don’t mind.”

Clark looked like he just found the meaning of life in Bruce’s face, his breath coming out in a shudder. “Really?”

“Not at all.” Bruce eased Thomas into his arms. “He’s asleep and if he wakes up-” he thought to his other nipple and grimaced. “I should be able to manage. You two have fun.”

His other didn’t say anything, choosing instead to smile at Clark who was now jumping on the spot like a puppy, in a blur he rushed and grabbed Bruce by the arm. “Bruce, did you hear him we can-” He quickly went quiet, eyeing Thomas who was still dead to the world if the drool on Bruce’s shirt was anything to go by. “We better hurry! Thanks Bruce!” He lifted Bruce easily in his arms and before he had a chance to blink they were gone.

Bruce stood for a moment staring at the wall, his universes alternate’s child held in his arms whilst said counterpart was having sex with this universe's Clark. For some reason none of that phased him the slightest and he went to sit on the couch, staring at the TV whilst he waited. He briefly wondered how he’d handle Thomas should he wake, though apparently he had nothing to worry about. Clark was not exaggerating when he said it wouldn’t take long.

Five minutes later Bruce walked in, hair disheveled, and breath ragged, with Clark nowhere to be seen. His other seeing his stare spoke. “He’ll be upstairs for a while.” At Bruce’s raised eyebrow he elaborated. “Alpha biology, he's uh, well not decent right now.” He cleared his throat and came forward, pulling Thomas into his arms and kissing his sleeping head. “Thank you for that.”

He shrugged, his lips quirked up. “What are universe equivalents for?”

His other smiled. “True enough, I suppose you'll want to head off now?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes, I don't want to keep putting it off.” He didn’t add his concern, his fear, but he knew it was on his face, in his eyes and his other gave him a smile that helped to alleviate some of it. His reached for the shialis, and gave a deep breath. “Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime, Bruce.”

After that there were no more words. As Bruce pressed his hand tightly on the shialis he felt everything quiver around him, the air itself seeming to shimmer. His other stepped back slowly, taking Thomas from his view and before he knew it he was gone completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory A/B/O chapter is done. Where's Bruce off to next? TUNE IN NEXT TIME TO FIND OUT.... WHICH WILL HOPEFULLY BE SOON. Also the meaning of the titles, mostly random numbers, also a hint for what kind of universe it is. Hopefully it will be a bit of fun for you guys to guess what kind of universe it will be before reading the chapter. This one is blatantly obvious, but perhaps the next one. Until then :) x


	3. Universe: VH 744 877 652

As he slowly drifted into consciousness, he knew something was wrong.

  
He could feel it in the linen underneath him, in the smell of the room, in the colours of the bedding as he gingerly opened his eyes. He wasn’t home, and that crushing realisation was eclipsed by the ache in his skull.

 

It was dark at least, sunlight he felt would finish him off at this point. His head throbbed as he got up and looked around the room. 

 

Did he even leave? Yes, he thought. This place didn’t  _ feel _ the same as the previous. Quiet what he was feeling for him to know that he couldn’t say. 

 

It was as he was taking stock of the situation that the door opened in front of him. He tensed as Clark came into view, his face wash of muted awe. Bruce mentally prepared himself for the hand around the neck but it never came. “Well I’ll be damned.” Clark said quietly. “Been awhile since I heard your heartbeat. Took me a minute to realise it was you.” 

 

“My-” That caught Bruce. Was he dead here? He paused as he looked up at Clark who didn’t look at all perturbed by Bruce's presence. That didn’t help the unease he felt. “I would have you thought you’d be more taken aback, it’s not an everyday occurrence for people to phase into existence here, I take it?”   
  


Clark merely shrugged. “It takes a lot to surprise me.” He shut the door behind him and rested against it. “But for curiosity's sake, why don't you tell me how you got here?” 

 

Bruce didn’t know if he liked the casualness this Clark exuded or if he hated it. He wondered what kind of man wouldn't react at all to a being from another universe popping up in his bed, and the answer he received in his mind was ‘not a sane one’. 

 

“I'm from another universe…” He began slowly. “I accidentally came to this one instead of back to my own.” His hand found the shialis, feeling slight comfort in its presence. His head however found only pain. “I would appreciate if you’d allow me to stay and regain my strength for a while, then i’ll head off and you’ll never see me again.” 

  
Clark looked at the device and gave a small nod. “Sure. I don’t mind you staying, but Bruce-.” 

 

“Wait, so I’m not...?” He tapered off, and Clark gave a small wry smile at that, which did nothing to alleviate Bruce’s worries. “But you said-” 

  
“I know what I said.” He replied simply as he went to leave, his hand finding the handle and pulling it open. “You can stay, but you may wanna just hang out up here and head on back to your own universe as soon as you can.”

 

Before the door could close, he was up. “Wait, Clark-” Clark thankfully kept the door open, a eyebrow raised. “I don’t suppose you could bring me something to eat, and some medicine maybe?” He could see Clark’s eyes narrow and he thought for a moment he’d tell him no and shut the door.

 

There was no need to worry apparently as Clark nodded. “Sure, i’ll go out and get some. What do you want?”

 

“Anything, you know i'm not fussy.” Clark didn’t react, just nodding again his face carefully blank, and Bruce cleared his throat at the expression. “And painkillers please, preferably aspirin, but-” 

 

“Aspirin?” Clark asked his eyes widening by a fraction. 

 

Bruce frowned. “Yes? Is that-”

  
Clark’s hand tightened on the door. “No, it’s nothing. Just a thought I had, it don’t matter.”

 

“I-” Bruce didn’t continue, he didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary and the less he spoke the quicker Clark would get what he needed and he could get out of here. “If you say so.” 

  
Clark didn’t speak further, closing the door and leaving Bruce with his thoughts.

 

He couldn’t even begin to start with every wrong feeling he was getting from this place. He moved around the room, trying to discern where he was. 

 

It seemed the room he was in was unused, it had a fine layer of dust all over but some items were displaced, things that used to be there and weren't anymore. He used the ensuite to clean himself and noticed the water was freezing. He ran it for a few minutes, but nothing so much as lukewarm came out. Luckily he wasn’t a fussy man, and if anything the cool water on his head helped the ache.

 

When he went back he noticed the plate of food and small box of pills on the bedding.

 

It was take-out. Bruce perhaps would have found it funny that Clark brought him a container of noodles sat atop a china plate, but the note next to it made his stomach seem reluctant to eat.

 

‘Don't go out of room. Call if you need me.’

 

Bruce stared at the note, his hand trembling as he reread the words. He looked at the door, and tried not to think about what was behind it. 

 

He ate his food and used a glass kept in the bathroom to gulp down as much water as he could. When he picked up the box of aspirin and swallowed two. He read the box thoroughly before he did, checking the blister packaging. The idea would normally never cross his mind for tampering, but from what he had seen of this universe, he couldn’t be too safe it seemed.

 

Clark came in after he’d finished eating and collected Bruce’s unused plate and empty container, seeming to think as he watched Bruce undress to go into bed. He eyed the door for a moment then frowned. “I don't know if you'll be safe here.” 

 

Bruce stopped unbuttoning his shirt and didn't hide the concern on his face. “Why?” 

 

“Bruce will be getting up soon, and I don't want him finding you when you’re asleep.” He put the plate down on the dresser. “We have a special room you can sleep in, where he can’t get to you. Down in the cave.”

  
“Okay.” Bruce said slowly. “Should we go there then?”

 

Clark nodded and stood waiting at the door for Bruce to follow. They walked through the manor and the general mustiness made Bruce's nose twinge. There seemed to be no one else here aside form Clark, and apparently Bruce. There was no Alfred quietly humming, or the sound of his boys laughing. It was entirely silent aside from his own breathing.

 

The cave however seemed just as it always did, with the computer pride and place in the middle, his cars along the side. There was something very different about this Batcave however, that was very apparent from the moment he walked in.

 

There were bats.

 

Everywhere.

 

Usually, in his own cave, the bats kept to the catacombs, coming out infrequently at best. This one though was totally different with swarms of them on every available surface of the ceiling, peering down at the pair as they walked in. Clark however didn’t seem concerned with the seeming thousands of bats peering at him as he gesture across the way to a glass cube. 

  
“It’s an observation tank, you can put a custom passcode on it. I put you in there, and pick the passcode and Bruce won't be able to get to you.” He pulled open the metal door with a large tug, and Bruce stared into the room. It wasn't exactly private, with it being entirely made of plexiglass panels. But one look at the door and a tap on the glass showed it was built to last.

 

“Why do you have this thing?” He asked, wondering if he even wanted to know the answer.

  
“We use it to monitor Bruce.” He said as he gestured his hand for Bruce to go in.

 

Bruce felt the noodles in his stomach ready to come up as he walked into the room, the door shutting with a loud clang after him. He looked at his meager possessions, an army cot and a bucket. He slid down into the bedding and watched as Clark walked out of the cave, turning the lights turned off as he did.

 

He could hear the bats start to stir as he himself tried to get some sleep, he was exhausted, but his body was on edge. Unable to shake the feeling he was being watched. After what he assumed was an hour of half hearted sleep, he awoke and stared out into the vast darkness of the cave. He couldn’t have sworn he’d heard something, but as he stared hard through the glass into the still dark cave he saw nothing.

 

Until his face pressed up against the glass. 

 

He fell onto the ground, his heart pounding. Red eyes stared back at him, and Bruce watched in horror as the face bared teeth and snarled against the glass. He reached around himself for anything to use as a weapon, but there was nothing. The room was bare.

 

His other scrambled against the glass before rushing over to the door. Bruce prayed with every muscle in his body that Clark didn't forget to put in a code, he didn't want to die due to Clark’s idiocy. 

 

After a few failed attempts the snarling was back with a vengeance, being punctuated with high pitched screams and fists against the glass. He felt less fear the longer it went on, he realised he was safe here. Bruce could bang against the glass all he wanted, he wasn't getting him.

 

“Bruce!” He heard Clark call, and bright light suddenly flooded the room. “What are you doing? I told you not to come down here.” Clark was rushing across the cave and sent him an apologetic look as he still sat on the floor. 

 

This Bruce didn’t reply, snarling at Clark and in barely a second jumped on him. Clark however looked like a man who was being bitten by a mosquito with how little it seemed to affect him. “Bite me all you want, you ain’t getting blood. You know that.” Clark lifted Bruce’s wriggling body to better support him and walked over to the glass easily. He peered in. “You okay?” 

 

“Yes.” Bruce said, taking a deep breath. “You know you could have just ‘told’ me I was a vampire in this universe.”   
  


Clark gave a shrug, though the movement was lost with Bruce quietly gnawing on his neck. “I hoped you wouldn't have to meet him like this, he’s not usually this bad, I promise. But he doesn't let himself have human blood so gets a bit over excited when he smells it.” 

 

Bruce got up to better talk to Clark, but in one movement his other was back on the glass, scrambling for him. Clark heaved a sigh as wrapped his arms around his stomach. “Look I think we're gonna have to switch places.” 

 

“Pardon?”

 

“I’m gonna put Bruce in there, and when i’m doing that, you walk out.” Clark said easily, Bruce however balked at the notion. 

  
  
“You're kidding, if you let go-”

 

“I won’t let go.” And with that amount of conviction in his voice, Bruce had no choice but to believe him.

 

Despite nearly having a heart attack when Clark opened the door and waltzed in with a now thrashing Bruce, he quickly ran out before Clark threw his other onto the bed and sped out, slamming the door after him.

 

Bruce had to admit being on the other side of the glass was a lot better, and watching Bruce from the safety of the cave let him breathe easy. “So that was fun.” 

 

“Sorry.” Clark said rubbing the back of his neck. “I just knew this was gonna happen.” He rapped on the glass when the other Bruce started hissing. “Stop that.” Clark chided and surprisingly his other listened. He gave a nod before gesturing for Bruce to follow him further into the cave. “I know it doesn't look it now, but he really is nothing like that normally. It’s just blood makes him-” He shivered. “He’s been trying so hard not to let it get to him, we’ve been training and everything.”

 

“How does he train exactly?” They were by the computer now, and whilst Bruce sat in his chair Clark leant against the console.

 

“We’d put a drop in front of him and see how long it takes before he gets, well-” he looked over to the glass contained where Bruce stood silently watching them. “Like that.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “He’s been doing so well recently… I think that’s why he came down here, it was like the ultimate test. If he could control himself great, if he couldn’t, you were safe in there without having to worry about him getting you.” 

 

“I didn’t feel too safe.” Bruce mumbled quietly. 

 

Clark shrugged. “Well, you were. I tested that glass, and him in one of his moods can't make a dent in it.”

 

Bruce caught his other starring and didn't miss how sad he looked, his apparent rage gone for the moment as his hand seemed to paw at the glass. “How did he get like that?”

  
Clark pursed his lips. “I think he’d wanna tell you that himself.”

 

“I doubt that will be happening.”

 

“Oh it will, I just need to let him eat first.” And with that Clark left his perch and pulled open a container on the floor.

  
A large number of pills lay neatly in rows down the lining and Bruce frowned as Clark quickly put one to his lips, swallowing hard. The effect was immediate with Clark having to support himself on the console as he schooled his breathing. “Sugar tablets.” He said at Bruce's look, and when he received a look of confuse he offered a lazy smile. “With the barest hint of Kryptonite.”

  
“Why?”

  
Clark winked. “He can only bite me when i’m weak.” He walked over to the door and to his horror, opened it up, walking inside and this time falling to the ground when Bruce pounced on him.

 

Bruce averted his stare and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the room, he could hear Clark groaning as well a quiet gurgle of blood as it flowed from him.

 

It didn’t last long though, and with a shuddery breath he looked over. His other was now sat on Clark’s chest, attempting to wipe off the blood on his mouth with little success. Clark got up too, rubbing his neck where the puncture marks lay.

 

When the door flung open and they walked out, Bruce had to fight the urge to run. His other looked completely different. Though his eyes still held that same unnatural hue, he now smiled at Bruce, though that sad look from earlier seemed to remain. “It’s nice to meet you.” He said softly, before his eyes cast downward. 

 

“Likewise.” Bruce offered curtly.

 

A silence enveloped them and with a slight cough his other spoke. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

 

“It’s okay.” He looked to Clark who was now rubbing the other Bruce’s back, his fatigue still apparent in the way he leant against the man. 

  
“Yeah Bruce, you're too hard on yourself. No one got hurt, so-” Clark waved his hand in the air. “It’s all fine.”

 

“No it isn't Clark.” His eyes flared bright and Bruce felt himself stepping back. “I could have seriously hurt him. I knew I wasn't strong enough and-” he bit his own lip, revealing the long fangs in his mouth. “I’m really sorry, I must have petrified you.” 

 

“Really, it’s fine.” He held up his hands to placate him, and his other gave him another sad smile. 

  
“You must have so many questions.” He looked around the cave before grimacing. “But here isn’t the best place, follow me.” 

 

From what little Bruce managed to glean from the manor on his way down, he knew not much time was being spent in it. The living room seemed to have become washed out due to the fine layer of dust over all of the furniture, the once deep hues of burgundy were gone in the place of greys.

 

The kitchen seemed to be an odd mix of this phenomenon. He could tell it wasn’t being used to cook in, but there were still signs of life from the displacement of dust on the counter tops. There was a faint odour when he walked in, and as he tried to find its source he saw the broken glasses and plates littering the counter, when he sent a question look his other answered. “When I first turned I tried to maintain a normal diet, but that didn’t go well and I got-” he looked down at his hands. 

 

“Why didn’t you clean it up?” The plates still had pieces of food on them, now rotted and Bruce frowned at the smell they gave off.

 

His other sent a worried look to Clark who answered for him. “No one comes here.”

 

“What about yourselves, doesn’t the state of the manor bother you?” He ran his hand to illustrate his point along one of the cleaner surfaces and held up the blacked finger as evidence. 

  
“Not really.” Clark said blandly. “I’m not here during the day and during the night we tend to stay in the cave.”  

 

“I see.” Bruce said tersely, though what little venom in his voice was gone when he noticed his other shrinking into the corner, his arms folded and head down. “Sorry, I come here and the first thing I do is insult the decor.” 

 

That got a smile from both of them, and his others arms lowered. “It’s fine, I can see why you must be concerned.”

 

“I suppose I wasn't expecting to come across a universe like this.” He looked around the room, though the dim light impeded his observations somewhat. “How did it all happen?” 

 

Bruce sat down at the counter with Clark and his other taking the seat opposite, his hands held in front of him in a manner that should have shown confidence had it not been for the mild tremble they had. If he looked closely he could still see the blood on them. “I take it you don't have vampires in your universe?”

 

“In novels and movies, but i’ve never come across a real life vampire… Well, aside from Manbat.”   

 

“That’s a fair statement.” He gave a shallow nod. “For us it was much the same, but when a scientist created the virus he infected a large portion of America. It spread rapidly before we were able to contain it, with most cities now having a vampire district, which is closely monitored and guarded.” 

 

“Gotham was one of the worst casualties of the epidemic. Patient zero, the scientist himself, was in Gotham when he created the virus, thus the outbreak hit us worst. People who didn’t understand what was happening evacuated to other cities, not realising they themselves were infected, but the hunger soon took over and you can imagine how rapidly it all spread from there.” 

 

“I was trying to capture patient zero when I was bitten. I thought I could handle him, but the virus makes your stronger than an average human and I was overwhelmed, if Clark hadn’t have found me I would have died, but as it stood, I just received the virus.” He pressed his lips together. “I’ve not been outside the manor since.” 

 

Bruce frowned at that statement. “What, at all?”   
  
“No.” He said evenly. “The last thing I had Alfred do before he left was help fake my own death. With the panedomium and the media knowing Gotham was the epicenter, it was relatively easy. Not even a body was needed just Alfred saying the manor was broken into and I was killed was enough. He and the boys have moved to other cities where the vampire populations are lesser and or better contained, in Gotham it’s still a massive problem. Most can get through by bribing guards, and even with strict curfews the numbers for deceased or turned citizens is rising. I’ve made it my mission now to try and find a better way for managing the virus, or better yet, curing it all together.”   
  


“That’s a bold vision.”

 

“Well with any luck it will become reality. I’m not the only one working on it, most if not all of the League has a vested interest in seeing this problem dealt with. As I said, we’re not the only one with vampires now.” His other looked out of the window and eyed the now overgrown lawn. “It would just be nice to go back to how things were.” He said quietly.

  
“I mean, I can only speak for myself but you could always start small. For one thing, maybe try cleaning up around here.” He looked down at the plates. “Or, I know you may not be able to eat anymore, but I’m sure Clark wouldn’t mind a home cooked meal.” He was surprised by the look on Clarks face, it was a smile unlike any he’d seen prior. Full of warmth and love as he wrapped an arm around his other.

  
“He has a point you know…” Clark said quietly causing his other to roll his eyes.

  
“It may not seem like a lot.” He continued. “But it may go some way to helping you feel more normal.”

  
  
After a moment of thought his other spoke. “You’re right. If Alfred saw what i’d let the manor become... Well, let’s just say being a vampire doesn't even compare to what he'd do.” 

 

“That does sound like Alfred.” He said fondly, though the sentence was finished off with a yawn. His earlier exhaustion was coming back as the adrenaline slowly wore.

  
  
“You must be tired, I mean I woke you up and-” he stopped, getting up from his seat. “Come, i'll show you to your bedroom.” He frowned. “Or you can sleep down in the cave… if you prefer.”   


  
Bruce gave a lazy smile. “I don't think you’ll eat me in my sleep so we should be good.” 

 

It seemed to ease whatever discomfort his other was expressing as he got a small nod in response. “Good, up this way.” 

 

He wanted to say he didn't need to be shown around, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell himself that. He followed Bruce up the stairs and came to the master bedroom, and when the door opened he could barely see inside. “I have black out curtains.” He said as though seeing  how much Bruce squinted in the low light. “No lights in general really. My eyes have adjusted to the dark and Clark can see through anything. I can get candle if-”

  
  
“No I should be fine, thank you.” He gave another smile as he made his way inside, trying to remember where the bed was from years of sleeping in it. He still bumped into its side, but thankfully his other had already left, leaving him to get some rest.

 

He should have been concerned sleeping here but in reality he felt more at ease than he had been in the tank. At least in his room he had a sense of familiarity, as though he wasn't stranded in space and time. He also knew Clark was here, Clark who could apparently carry a fully grown writhing vampire as if it were nothing and could handle being bitten by one too. He fell asleep easily and when he awoke it was surprisingly to the smell of pancakes.

 

The significance didn't dawn on him for a moment as he rose from bed and yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He got up and walked outside, following his nose back down to the kitchen. 

 

Clark sat at the counter, now clean and free of broken china, along with a Bruce humming quietly as he flipped pancakes. All at once, it came back to him as he realised where he was. Or more accurately where he wasn’t. He tried not to let his disappointment show as he too joined Clark at the counter. “Morning.”

  
  
“Almost, it’s about 4am.” Clark said as he sipped on his coffee. “Bruce will be going to bed soon and i'll be off to work.” He sent a wink his way. “We took your advice. Spent the night cleaning, and Bruce is now treating me to his world famous pancakes.”    


  
“Ha.” Bruce smirked. “World famous he says.” He turned with the pan. “I haven't made them in years and can't even taste to make sure they're okay, so-” he shrugged. “Don't blame me if they're terrible.”

  
  
Clark grabbed the pan and slid the cake onto his plate, cutting it and slathering it all in syrup. He took a bite and a bright grin took over his face. “Nope. You nailed it.”   


  
His other gave a mock bow. “Well I do try.” He turned to Bruce. “Would you like some?”

  
  
“Sure.” He felt his stomach grumble. “I’m starving.”  

 

“Not surprised. You been asleep awhile.” Clark appraised him. “You think you'll be able to move on or do you need to stay another night?”

  
  
“I should be okay.” He said eyeing the shialis. “I'm feeling a lot better than I was earlier. Sleep, medicine and food worked their wonders it seems.” It was as he eyed the object on his wrist that something else caught his eyes. China? He thought for a moment before he eyed the counter top. Must have been from all the plates. He slid off his chair and reached for the small piece, picking it up with his fingers.

 

Clark eyed him. “What you find there?”

  
  
“Oh?” Bruce looked over at him. “Piece of china. You must have missed it in you're cleaning.” He said with a wink, walking over to the bin.

  
“Ah, I see.” Clark gave a nod. “We tried our best but i'm not one for cleaning and Bruce was too focused on all the dust.” He looked over to the man and gave a sniff into the air. “Hon, I think you're burning...”

  
  
But the words were caught in his throat as he watched his other at the stove top. His back tense as he his arms shook. The pan in front of him started to give off more smoke as Clark got up from his seat and began to pace slowly toward between the two of them. “Bruce?” He asked quietly.   


  
As Bruce turned, his eyes aflame he jumped for him. Clark leapt forward and wrapped his arms around his waist, trying his best to pull him back. “Holy shit! Bruce what the hell-” he attempted to adjust his grip but as he did the other wriggled free. Bruce’s brain finally caught up with the program as he ran from the room as fast as he could, toward the cave. 

 

He paused at the clock, waiting to see if he was being followed but no one ever came. He heard snarling and a few things break as he stood and caught his breath. As the manor grew silent he walked back toward the kitchen, his breath held.

 

They were on the floor, Clark pinning Bruce in place at the neck as the man himself struggled for breath, his skin slick with sweat and his eyes fluttering. Clark looked up at him his expression grim. “Let me see your finger.”   
  


“My-” but Bruce didnt question him, bringing his hand forward and in doing saw the tiny red slit just visible on his index finger.

 

Clark didn't say anything at the cuts appearance and watched to see if Bruce would react to the presence of it, when nothing occurred he gave a sign. “It’s scabbed over now. He should be fine.” He didn't move however and looked back up at Bruce.

 

“It must have been when I picked up the shard, I didn't even-” because he hadn't, he didn't even feel it go in.

  
  
“Small cut like that wouldn't normally be a big deal.” Clark said easily. “But…”

  
  
Bruce caught his meaning, his shoulders slumping. “Aspirin.”

  
  
“Yup.” He popped the p. “But don't blame yourself, you weren't to know. I really shouldn’t have given it to you. The medical boards in most cities have limited its usage now cause of all this.” 

 

He looked down at his other. His eyes still fluttered as Clark slowly let go of his grip and got up. Bruce stayed on the floor, his body limp. “Is he…?”   


  
“Unconscious? Yeah, had to strangle him keep him from following you.” Bruce tried to keep his expression neutral but failed as apparent from Clark’s shrug. “Oxygen deprivation is a good way to knock out a vampire, it don't hurt them and when they wake they are usually a lot calmer.”

  
  
“I thought…” He shook his head. “I thought you fed him?”

  
  
Clark looked at him and his eyebrows raised. “Oh that…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly it doesn't help him as much as we thought it would.” He bent down to lift the sleeping Bruce into his arms, checking him over as he did so. “See they need human blood to become fully satiated. Animal and alien blood just sort of fills them, but it doesn't mean they’re satisfied. Make sense?”

  
  
“Kinda.” He eyed the other wearily. “So if he were to have human blood, he'd be… safer?”

  
  
Clark jerked his head to the door and began walking. Bruce followed him up the stairs. “Yeah, if they drink blood they’re usually good for a week before they gotta feed again, and yeah during that time, they don't feel the hunger and most vampires can actually lead pretty normal lives. But that's the kicker-” he opened the door Bruce had come from earlier and easily placed his other on the bed, coming back out into the hallway before continuing. “They need  _ human _ blood to do that, if you keep a vampire on an animal blood diet yes they can exist, but they can’t live.”

 

“Hence why he doesn't leave the manor...”

  
  
“Yeah.” He sighed. “The boys have even offered to donate their blood to try and let Bruce be incontrol more, but he keeps saying no. He thinks if he tries hard enough, if he has a strong enough willpower, he can control it.” Clark looked down at himself, his voice lowering until it was barely a whisper. “But he can't. The virus… it’s stronger than him.” 

 

Bruce nodded slowly peering back into the room where his other was barely visible, fidgeting in his sleep. “One day.” He said resolutely. “One day he’ll do it.”

  
  
Clark smiled. “I hope you're right.” He closed the door. “I better go clean up down stairs, you want me to fix you up something?” 

 

After a bowl of cereal, the kind that was practically all sugar and nothing else, Bruce sat with Clark and watched as the man cleaned up the broken crockery now all over the floor. He would have offered to help but somehow he felt that would somehow make everything worse considering all this had happened when he previously tried to help. Instead he waited until Clark was finished and joined him at the counter, a fresh pot of coffee between them. “I should be heading off.” 

 

Clark nodded and looked up. “He’ll hate himself when he wakes up.” He gave a sigh. “But, I think this was good for him… Maybe.”

  
  
“Never lose that eternal optimism, Clark.” Bruce brought his hand forward, resting it on Clark’s. “You’re both a lot stronger than you realise.” 

 

He smiled. “Thanks Bruce. Be safe.” He said running his fingers across his knuckles. “Don’t be a stranger either, when you have that thing-” he gestured to the shialis. “-Figured out, I wanna see you again.”

  
“That’s a deal.” He got up and took a breath. “Be seeing you Clark.”

 

He didn’t say anything else as Bruce concentrated.

  
  
His vision blurred and he was gone. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampire Bruce gives me life. We need more of it. More of it I say! Real talk though, this is one of the chapters I do want to elaborate on, give me sad vampire Bruce with ball of sunshine Clark. Gimme it!


	4. Universe: CS 900 997 923

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update?? So soon after the other?? What is happening?? WHO ARE YOU??
> 
> Okay real talk, all of your lovely comments and kudos spurred me on and I've written a butt load of stuff for both this and Sunshine. It seriously makes me so happy seeing your comments, I can't even tell you!! I love hearing from you all and what you thought about the fic so far. :D 
> 
> For this chapter I will just offer a little suggestion from me. Listen to Cinematic Orchestras to Build a Home if you want to get the full experience whilst reading this chapter. With that, enjoy!

The feeling of waking up and knowing that everything you knew was about to be put into question was one Bruce hoped he wouldn’t have to get used to. 

 

As he rose from the sheets, a fine layer of dust rose with him. The worry that was seated in his stomach grew as his eyes darted about. He got up slowly, and even still the dust flew wildly. He coughed to clear his lungs. 

 

He was still in the manor from what he could gather, but it had long been abandoned. Any shred of evidence that showed he once lived here was long gone. The cabinets were clear, and the wardrobes empty. He gave a cursory look around, but found nothing. No signs of life. He gulped at the realisation. It must have been years since anyone had lived here. This wasn't from a month long stagnation, this was much, much worse. 

 

He didn’t want to leave the room. Whilst he was in here he was safe. He was in an unknown yet familiar place and if he could just stay here and leave without ever knowing what happened to leave his family home abandoned, he’d be just fine with that.

 

Eventually he realised the prospect of staying in this room without food or painkillers for hours on end was a less appealing prospect than opening the door. With a sigh of acceptance he opened it and was soon out in the hallway, dank and musty from what Bruce could only assume was years of neglect. 

 

He needed to find out what year he was in. Why he thought it would help the hopelessness of the situation he didn’t know, but any information seemed like a good thing. Slowly he made his way downstairs. His skin crawled and the waves of loneliness rolled over him as he did. The banister where Dick scrawled his name was still there, his hand grazing the indents. The stain from when Jason decided he didn't need to listen to Alfred about holding onto the banister whilst carrying his drink could still be seen under the residual layers of dust. Everything that wasn't attached to the house itself was gone. No vases lined the hall, no paintings, no pictures, nothing. His home was nothing more than a husk.

 

The living room was worse than upstairs. By the looks of the displaced dust someone was squatting here. A blanket lay strewn on top of the couch cushions and there was some used plates out on the coffee table. The food looked old however and he couldn't say if whoever had been here, was still. A few suspect stains were on the floor by the couch and Bruce gulped at the implication. He really did not want to find a dead body whilst wandering around his house. He could only take so much.

 

He exhaled loudly as he felt his eyes water. Everything crashed in on him then, he was stranded, he was alone, his home was in ruin. He willed himself to look at everything as clinically as possible, forcing himself to ignore the fact this was his home laying abandoned, in disrepair, and Bruce couldn't do anything aside from explore it. 

 

He found the clock still there and when he entered the combination it swung open. Though with a creek so loud Bruce thought it was an alarm of some kind his other self had installed. He did however feel comforted as he looked down at the rickety stairs. At least he was Batman here. 

 

The cave looked the same as always, he even heard the familiar calling of the bats from the catacombs as he walked up to the console. He tried to boot it up, but the power was long gone. The whole manor must not have power aside from the auxiliary powering the emergency bulbs down here. He made his way to the generator, eyeing its more than rusty frame, and managed to switch it back on. All at once the hum of machinery brought back to him a sense of progress. He could deal with this. He thought to himself. Whatever  _ this _ was. He just had to focus, adapt and get the hell out of here the moment it was possible.

 

As he made his way to the computer, he faltered in his steps. He was being watched. 

 

It was a feeling he had learnt to trust over the years and as he looked around he tried to spot signs of his hunch. 

 

The layers of dust meant he could see footsteps close by, blurred in appearance suggesting whoever was here was quick. By the back of the cave as well, he could see a long trail of displaced dust. He looked in that direction, his eyes narrowing. He contemplated going to it, but he thought against it. If the person was biding his time he had a reason to.

 

The computer thankfully came on as he pressed the power button and even better held a few answers to his burning questions. The year was 2441, and as far as he could gather the last person to use this computer was Damian about four hundred years prior. He felt his guts twist as he stared at the screen. Damian would be long dead, Alfred, Dick, Jason, Tim. Everyone. The house was abandoned, but surely he had descendants? Someone to take over his estate? How could there be no one?

 

He searched the files and found some newspaper clippings showing Damian, though he almost didn't recognize him. He was older, about Bruce’s age and the young boy next to him held a close resemblance. Bruce at first thought it was himself and Damian but the eyes were what caught him, narrow and gleaming. Talias. The man in the photo was his son. 

 

That man would now be dead. As would the young boy next to him. It was one emotion to lose a relative but another entirely to know you lost one before even knowing them. He could do nothing more than stare at the last vestige of his family on the screen before him. He read more, tried to glean what he could but there wasn’t much. Lack of internet and no one having been down here to document, what, if anything happened meant Bruce was left again at a dead end.

 

He gave shuddery breath as he turned the computer off. As the fans slowed to nothing and enveloped him in silence, he heard it. A gentle breeze of air brushing by his head.

There was someone behind him. He could feel him. Sense him in a way he couldn’t explain. He turned slowly and stared up at the man, his face full of hope. “Clark?”

 

The man in front of him definitely looked like Clark. Bruce didn’t miss how he frowned at the name, as though he hadn’t been called it in a long time. His face was older, more haggard but still holding that youthful edge that Clark always seemed to have. Even four hundred years into the future, he still looked like himself. Still wore his Superman suit, though coloured differently and Bruce was glad for at least some familiarity. 

 

He was however not glad when he felt a hand on his neck. 

 

It must have been less than a second. But one moment he was looking up at Clark, the next he was being lifted by his throat, staring down at him helplessly. He shouldn't have been surprised really, there was bound to be a universe where this was a possibility, he just hoped his stash of Kryptonite was still here. He tried to come up with a plan, but his mind was firmly in panic mode. “Clark- please-” He ground out.

  
“What are you doing here?” He shook him easily and Bruce felt the muscles of his neck strain at the movement. “How dare you take his face, you vile excuse for-” his hand tightened and Bruce gasped what he assumed was his final breath

 

“Clark- please, listen! It’s me, it’s really me-” he coughed and felt his eyes bulge. “Heart beat. Listen to-” but he couldn't say anymore, he couldn't breath and his mind was racked with horror. He was going to die, Clark was going to kill him.

 

But he didn't. He let go and Bruce flopped back onto his chair gasping for air whilst he rubbed his neck with his hand. He looked up at Clark and saw the face meer moments ago twisted with anger now filled with hope. “Bruce?” He said quietly, his voice a whisper. “Is it really you?”   
  
“Yes…” Bruce said, his voice sounding more like sandpaper then it had any right to. He swallowed. “I have so much I need to tell you.” 

 

Clark nodded eagerly. “We should go to the Fortress. It’s where i’m living now.” 

 

Bruce nodded. Getting up, he gave one last look around the cave before reaching for Clark, who took his hand easily.

 

The Fortress was of course immaculate, the whole place practically shimmered before them despite some of the obvious dents in the walls as they walked through. The computer voiced a hello to him as they entered and Clark’s smile seemed to grow if that were possible. 

 

Making there way to the dining room, Bruce felt a profound sense of relief fall over him as he saw his family photos hanging neatly on the walls. He looked at them all whilst Clark got them something to drink. There was another photo of Damian with his son, though in this one Clark made an appearance, looking much the same in it as he did now.

 

“So.” Clark said as he re-entered, setting down the tray. “I know I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but this-” he couldn't stop smiling and Bruce felt his stomach twist. 

 

“Clark.” He quickly sipped some water to help the burn in his throat, they sat down and Clark gave him his full attention never once looking away. “I need to clarify something. I am real. This isn't a trick, I am literally Bruce Wayne.” Clark nodded at this, but his stare went pensive when he saw the obvious ‘but’ coming his way. “But, i’m not  _ your _ Bruce Wayne. I’m from an alternate reality. I’m currently stuck trying to get back to my own, and this-” he held out his arm showing the shialis. “-keeps sending me anywhere but.” 

 

He was quiet when Bruce stopped talking, and he couldn't blame him. He waited patiently for Clark to speak. “So you're not my Bruce?” He said. Bruce shook his head. “And you’re trying to get back to your reality?” A nod. “How long are you going to stay?” 

 

This question caused Bruce to look down his hands resting on the table, unable to look him in the eye. “I don’t know. I suppose about a day? I need to rest before I can move on.” His head was pulsing, and he needed sleep. Badly.

 

“Jesus…” Clark muttered. “Why would-” His hands curled into fists in front of them. “Here I thought my prayers had been answered, but no, just God fucking with me again.” He laughed. “Makes perfect sense; you die. Four hundred years go by. You come back for one day, and then you go again.” The tears slid silently down his face. “God damn it…” Slowly he slid against the table, resting his head on his folded arms. Shaking with muted sobs.

 

Bruce didn't speak. Couldn't speak. His mouth apparently stuffed full of cotton. He wondered what would help the situation, but anything his brain could come up with also came with the possibility of making the situation far worse. He reached out his hand and leaving in just by Clark’s. Even if they weren't touching he knew Clark could feel his presence. His warmth.

 

Sure enough one hand moved out and clasped around Bruce’s. “I just-” and that was all he said. The rest of the sentence hanging in limbo.

 

Bruce rubbed his thumb against Clarks knuckles. “I know.” Bruce said. “I wish I could stay longer, but I can't. I need to get home, back to my Clark.” He looked at the man before him. His Clark, this Clark. They were all the same, he loved them all, and he felt his own composure break. “I miss him.” He said softly.

 

Clark sat up his own glistening eyes catching Bruce’s. “I miss  _ you. _ ” His hands trailed soft patterns along his outstretched fingers, and Bruce gave a sad smile at the gesture. “I forgot what this was like... Just you being here. I thought I was okay being alone, I told myself that for so long, but-” A tear slid down his face. “I couldn’t stop dreaming about you. Every night you were there with me and every morning you’d be gone.” He laughed though the sound was so bitter, so harsh. “I used to wish I could sleep forever, just so I wouldn’t have to keep losing you all over again.”   

 

They sat like that for what felt like hours, lost in the others mere presence. Though Bruce’s mind kept dwelling on the fact that when he left, Clark would be all alone again. And that thought hurt him more than he could explain. “Why don’t we do something nice together?” He said quietly. “Unless you’d prefer to just sit here.” He tried to say with a smile, but his attempt at humour was lost even on himself. 

  
“We could-” Clark said as rose up. His voice more together, though his eyes still watered. “We could watch a movie?”

 

“Sure Clark.” He smiled. “Sure.” 

 

He must admit this is not what he thought Clark would suggest. A movie. He knew Clark was a down to earth guy, but somehow even this seemed pretty low key. He let Clark rush around getting everything ready. Before long the living room of the fortress was filled with blankets and cushions and the sweet aroma of popcorn. Bruce had to laugh at the absurdity of it, settling himself atop the mountain of pillows. 

  
“Budge up…” Clark said as he tried to move in next to Bruce, who just so happened to sprawl himself all over the cushions at that very moment. He felt so comfortable he just grunted to Clark’s request. “Well, I guess I have no choice.” He lifted Bruce easily and set him back down across his chest. “Comfy?” Clark murmured in his ear. 

 

Bruce felt his cheeks burn. “Very.”

 

The movie was one he and Clark had watched years ago. Well, over four hundred years ago if he wanted to be precise. But it felt like yesterday to Bruce, who kept looking up at Clark’s face. He watched as he smiled and laughed during the movie and before long Bruce realised he was watching him more than the screen. Clark too noticed, his smile softening. “You bored already?”

 

“No.” Bruce said quietly. “You’re just nicer to look at.”

 

Clark’s flush was noticeable even in the low light and Bruce felt a tell tale tightening in his groin. This was getting too much. He sat up. “Sorry. I’m just-” 

 

“No.” Clark reached for him and he fell back into the touch easily. “You know, you said something back there and I wanted to tell you. I don’t see you as a different Bruce, I mean I know you are, and I know there are things things i’ve done with you that you haven’t done with me, but you’re still Bruce and I love you so much it hurts.” He kissed the side of his head, working down to his neck. “And I was thinking, if I think that about you, do you maybe, think that about me?” He said quietly, his words enunciated with soft presses of his lips. 

 

Bruce skin tingled. “Yes…” He said quietly. “But I don’t want to make things harder for you. Clark I told you i’m not here forever, and-” 

 

“Don’t remind me.” Clark’s voice was tight. “Just, let me live in this fantasy. Just for today. Just for one day can I imagine you didn’t die? Can I pretend just for tonight?” His voice trailed off and he pressed himself close, breathing in Bruce’s scent. “Please?” 

 

“Okay…” He said quietly. “Okay.” 

 

Clark’s hand trailed lower until it found the bulge of Bruce's erection pressed tight against his pants. Clark nibbled on the skin of his neck and slowly rubbed against the cloth, causing Bruce to hiss loudly. “Clark…” He whined and felt Clark’s breath hitch against his skin.    
  
“Say my name again…” His hand stopped and he brought his head up to press his lips on Bruce’s ear.    
  
“Clark.” Bruce said, his voice more forceful and the hand moved lower, cupping him gently.    
  
“Again.”

 

“Clark.” And this time Clark’s hand moved, pressing firmly and quickly against him. 

 

Before he knew it the gentle touches above his clothing slid underneath, burrowing and exploring. A hand found his nipple, rubbing the sensitive skin there as the other worked its way down into his pants. 

 

He couldn’t help the moan that slipped from his mouth as Clark gripped him, his hand tightening just on the very edge too tight. Right in that sweet spot of being just too much. It was perfect and he arched his back into him, his ass rubbing at Clark’s own erection.

 

There were far too many articles of clothing involved for his taste and he tried to unbutton his shirt, but Clark’s hands stilled when he did so. Before he knew it, he was naked, blinking down at his cock as Clark’s hands went back to their work. “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I took the super speed approach to undressing.” He said, and Bruce could feel the smile against his skin as he spoke.   
  
“God no, i'm glad you did.” He breathed in deep as he rested his head back onto Clark’s shoulder. 

  
“Thought as much.” Clark said as he adjusted himself, lifting Bruce up and letting his own cock run between Bruce's ass. Bruce gave an experimental clench and smiled when Clark groaned into his shoulder. “God damn Bruce…” 

 

It took him a moment to realise they were somehow in bedroom, somewhere between the handjobs and kisses they became surrounded by blankets, covering them and protecting them from anything that wasn't just the two of them, kissing as though nothing was wrong. 

 

He felt Clark’s finger circling him gently, the silent request there. Bruce pressed into the touch, his teeth gritted. “Clark, please…” 

 

The finger glided in, soon followed by another, and another. Bruce lost himself in the feeling. The familiarity of it all, he could close his eyes and think he'd never left, he'd gone home with Clark when he returned from his mission and now they were spending the evening as he had tonight. With a barely watched movie and a well worn mattress. He groaned into the pillow as Clark brought his cock to his hole, rubbing it against the skin before pushing it in easily. 

 

The push and glide scratched something within Bruce, an itch he didn't even know he had, something he didn't even know he needed until right now, feeling Clark in him and feeling the love as his hands came around him, trailing along his skin like he were a delicate work or art.

 

He came quickly, feeling Clark doing much the same. He gave a loud exhale as he fell forward into the bed, pressing himself down into the mattress. He felt Clark pull out, kissing his shoulder as he lay down beside him. Even as he fell asleep the kissing didn't stop, the errant hands never went away. He fell asleep with Clark everywhere around him and he slept soundly.

 

-

 

When he woke, he felt so cozy he didn’t want to get up, his head finding just that right spot on Clark's chest and his arm in just the right position so that he could fall back to sleep easily if he let himself. He had to fight to lift himself up, he still couldn't quite remember when they managed to reach Clark’s bed, but here they were, a tangle of sheets and sweaty bodies. He stretched himself, a quiet groan escaping his lips. 

 

He knew Clark was awake from the slow tracing that was happening on his back, gentle circles finding all the spots Clark learned over the years that Bruce was particularly sensitive to. As he turned he felt Clark’s finger still. “Mornin’.”   
  
“Morning.” Bruce said quietly. Even though they were both awake he felt talking too loudly would break something about this moment. “How did you sleep?” He asked.   
  
Clark smiled. “Like a baby.” He sat up, his arms running along Bruce's sides. “How ‘bout you?”   
  
Bruce nodded. “Likewise.”  

 

They spend awhile lost in eachother. Bruce couldn’t deny how good he was feeling. To find comfort with a Clark, even if it wasn’t his own helped ease his displacement. He didn't feel so helpless all of a sudden, but he couldn’t help but wonder would happen once he left.

 

He tried not to dwell on it. He’d warned him. He knew what was going to happen-   
  
_ But you can't just leave him, can you? _   
  
I have to get back, to Clark, my Clark-

  
_ He  _ _ is _ _ you're Clark! They all are. _

 

He gave a shuddery breath and pulled away, getting up and wrapping the blanket around himself. “I should get dressed.” He cleared his throat. “I'll be heading out soon.”   
  
He tried not to look at Clark as he said it, but he still caught the pain his expression. It was there in his eyes, in the way he wiped his hand across his face, keeping it there over his mouth for just a second. Clark gave a slow nod. “Right. I'll go make some breakfast.” He slid of the bed without another word and left Bruce alone with his thoughts.

 

What could he do? Nothing that was what. He couldn’t _ not _ go back to his Clark. God, he didn’t even want to imagine what he was going through right now without him. Would he even know what happened? Would he be making his way back to the Selendrian’s for help? He hoped Clark would have the sense to do that, but even if he did, that trip would take a month aleast to make, and even then Bruce had no way of knowing how time correlated between universes. He could have been gone a minute for all he knew.   
  
He tried not to dwell too much on everything. If he did the utter hopelessness of what he was doing would smother him and with that the idea of just staying put became more and more appealing. But he couldn't just stay. It wasn't right and he knew it. If only-

  
If only he  _ could _ stay here. If only he was a Bruce without a Clark. 

  
As he reached the living room and picked up his pile of clothes he paused. An idea taking form in his head. What if he  _ found _ a Bruce like that?   
  
And what? Tell them there was a universe out there where Clark was just as miserable as he was?

 

No. No. No. Maybe he could-

 

He smiled at the idea.

  
Maybe he could help them both.

 

With this somewhat thought out plan he made his way to the bathroom, showering himself and allowing the fortresses wealth of technology to clean and dry his clothes as he washed. Once dressed he made his way to the kitchen where Clark stood humming to himself, the smell of pancakes enveloping him.   
  
He realised he didn’t get to eat any pancakes last night and was wondering if this Clark had some mind reading powers he wasn't telling him about. Probably not. “Smells good.”   
  
Clark turned a smile on his face. “Thought you’d appreciate a home cooked meal.” 

 

“I had cereal last night so that is a definite yes.”   
  
“What, the last Clark not know how to cook for his Bruce?” He said with a smile, through the jealousy was apparent. He supposed it was hard to imagine other versions of yourself out there, especially when you knew they were happier than you were.

 

“Sort of.” He said a quiet thank you when Clark set the plate down. He knew Clark would smother his in syrup and reached for the bowl of fresh berries for himself. “Didn’t get a chance to eat a proper dinner after Bruce tried to eat me for the second time that night.”

 

This caused Clark to freeze, his eyes blowing wide as a look of awe spread on his face. “No way.”

  
“Yup.” He nodded, taking a bite. “I was a vampire there and you-” he pointed his fork at him. “Helped take care of me.”   
  
Clark nodded at that. “Well good, that's what I want to hear. Can’t bare the idea of you being all alone, especially if-” He shuddered. “Did he really try to eat you?”   
  
Bruce nodded, a small smile in place. “Yup, but if you think that's the weirdest i've seen it doesn't come close to the first place I went to.”   
  
“Oh?” Clark was smiling now, lost in the conversation. “What did they have there? Green skies and blue grass?”   
  
“No.” Bruce let his mind go back to it, the peacefulness. “We had a baby. As in-” he gestured down at his stomach and the wonder in Clark’s face returned.   
  
“We-” He beamed. “Holy shit, what did he look like, what was his name?” 

 

“Just like us, you're hair, your smile, but he had my eyes.” He smiled at Clark. “We called him Thomas.”   
  
“I can't even…” He was smiling too, his cheeks red as he ignored his plate in favour of listening to Bruce. “It just sounds amazing, what you've seen, what you're going to see.”   
  
Bruce tried not to let the second part affect him. He knew he had a lot more ahead of him before he'd get back home, he just needed more time to understand the shialis and he’d be back before he knew it. Looking down at it again, his idea from earlier began to surface and he cleared his throat.

  
“It’s just an idea.” He began, keeping his expression as neutral as he could muster. “But the place I got this device from, it’s out in the sigma region, i’m sure if you went you could…” He gave a half shrug of the shoulder, hoping Clark caught his drift. 

  
Clark didn’t speak, seeming to roll the words around in his head as he formulated a response. “You think they’d just give me one?”    
  
“I don’t see why not.” Bruce gave a mild shrug. “They gave  _ my _ Clark one and let’s just say they were lucky he didn’t feel tempted to use it on the way back to earth.” He really did wonder what havok Clark could have gotten up to if he had been tempted to use the device. Clark’s were not known for their tact after all. He shuddered at the mere thought. “I’m sure if you explained yourself to them, they could be persuaded, but it’s up to you what you do. I just wanted to make the suggestion.”   
  
Clark was silent, his head resting on his hand as he stared off past Bruce. “I don't know if I could do it… To just abandon this place, I mean. It’s a big decision.”

  
“I know Clark.” He rested his hand on Clark’s. “But what is left for you here? I know I don’t know much, but it just seems…”   
  
“No.” Clark’s face was solemn. “You’re right. I guess, it's just... This was my home, this always will be my home.”

 

“Can I ask…” He swallowed. “Can I ask what happened?”   
  
Clark however seemed to shut off at the question, his stance going rigid and his lips pressing together. Bruce felt his mouth open, the words ‘just forget it’ almost out when Clark exhaled. “There was a war. After you died. Most of the planet was wiped out. Some survived, some always do, but…” 

 

“The League?”   
  
He shook his head.

  
“Our families?”   
  
No response.

 

“I see.” He felt hollow. An emptiness scrapping him from the inside out. “Clark you can’t stay here, not when there is so much more for you out there. Yes, this is you're home, but I know your Bruce would say the same thing that i’m saying now. Just tell me you’ll at least think about it.” 

 

“I…” He didn’t finish, the objection there and ready but unable to be said. “I’ll think about it.” He chose instead, his eyes still trained downward.   
  
Bruce wanted to fight it, wanted to force the man before him to promise him he’d leave this God forsaken place, but he didn’t. “Good.” He said instead, getting up from his seat. “I better be off.”

  
“Right.” Clark said stiffly, getting up to face Bruce. “I…” He let out a breath. “I have so much I could say to you so i’ll just keep it short. I’m gonna miss you, but you never know.” He tried to smile. “We may meet again.”   
  
“I hope we do Clark.” He came forward and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Goodbye, and...” He breathed his scent in deep, wanting to carry it with him through everything he still had before him. “I love you.”

  
Clark gave a shaky exhale, his arms resting on his hips, holding him in place for just a moment longer. “I love you too. Be safe.”

 

As he stepped back, Clark folded his arms, his lip firmly wedged between his teeth as he gave an attempt of a smile. There was no joy there though, only the pain of having to lose another Bruce. 

 

He steeled himself and focused. They would meet again, he could feel it in his bones, and when they did. 

 

Well, he just knew Clark wouldn’t be alone again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO WAS A BLUBBERING BABY WHILST WRITING THIS. THIS GAL.
> 
> Old and lonely Clark gets me every time, and I was listening to all the sad songs whilst writing this chapter. Also if you did my suggestion, welcome to the feels corner, I hope you enjoy our tear soaked bedding. To Build a Home was what I listened to when I first got the idea for this AU chapter. 
> 
> I can imagine the whole song taking place as Clark walks around the manor after Bruce has passed away, taking in everything and coming to terms with his death.
> 
> Anyway, I better stop now. This chapter was already upsetting enough, don’t need to make it more so. Don’t worry, the next chapter is going to be more uplifting. I think we all need some happy AU’s after all that. 
> 
> Please comment and kudos if you’re enjoying this fic! It is seriously the best motivation for my lazy butt and makes my day. :)
> 
> Till next time! :D


	5. Universe: HK 088 235 600

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has non-con elements. Go to endnotes for more context.

As he tried to sit up, something stopped him.

 

When he tried to lift his hand to investigate, those too were bound.    
  
Despite the pulsing in his head, he forced his eyes open, revealing the Fortress in all its shimmering glory before him.   
  
Had he even left? 

 

He tried to assess the room. It looked just as it had earlier, only now Bruce appeared to be restrained. When he looked down on himself he confirmed that diagnosis.

 

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat.  _ Oh God, please tell me he didn’t- _

 

The feeling worsened as he realised he didn't have the shialis anymore.

 

His breathing became laboured, his mind racing as he attempted to form a plan, anything at all, but all he got was white noise. Loud in his ears, swallowing all thought.

 

The door opened and a familiar face appeared before him. “You’re awake.” His other said calmly, dressed in a sleek white tunic and hair combed to one side with far too much hair gel. He felt relief for just a moment before a wave of nausea crept in afterward.

 

This was indeed a different universe. A different Clark. A Clark with a Bruce apparently. “Where am I?” He asked, gazing up at himself and the lack of empathy he found there was enough to make him flinch. 

 

With blank eyes and a steady hand, his other began untying him. “Do not try and escape.” He said evenly as he worked off the releases. “Kal El does not wish to harm you. If you corporate you will be treated well.” There was nothing in his voice, no inflection as though it was being spoken from rote. The words themselves weren’t what caught him however, not what made his heart sink, it was who they were from.   
  
Kal El.   
  
His Clark rarely took to being called Kal El, he was raised as Clark and sure Bruce may have called him Kal if the mood took him, but never how his other said it, sharp and clinical, everything Clark wasn't.

 

“Right.” He said as he fought down the sudden urge to push past his other, run and never look back. He knew he couldn't. He knew he had to bide his time. Even if he were to run, he couldn't do much without the shialis, and if this Clark were like his own he’d be able to chase after him in less than a femtosecond anyway. 

  
Once free his other stepped back, not even flinching as Bruce lumbered off of the chair toward him. In fact he didn’t even seem to be blinking, watching Bruce with calm detachment. He turned to walk out the room and Bruce had no choice but to follow. 

 

The fortress was better maintained than the previous one, gleaming and brightly lit. No fists sized dents in the walls. He didn't know where he was being led to, but a literal throne room was not at all what he expected.

 

“My oh my…”

 

He heard Kal before he saw him, his voice reaching him across the room as he stepped inside. He was bathed in light as he sat perched on the throne, the grin on his face obvious even from where Bruce stood. “My sleeping beauty finally awakens.” He said as he got up from his seat, stepping down and watching the two as they approached. “It seems my prayers have been answered.”

 

His other stopped then and moved to the side, his hand gesturing to Bruce. “Kal El, I have brought him to you.”   
  
Kal rolled his eyes. “I can see that, go stand by the throne, you’re blocking the view.”

 

Bruce nodded, not a flicker going across his face as he walked away towards the throne, standing beside it like decoration. Bruce’s eyes blew wide as he looked up to Kal and tried not to panic as he stood there, like prey to the awiting predator. “So, what brings you here, my moon?” 

 

Bruce gulped. “I-” but he couldn’t speak, his throat closing off as his palms began to sweat.

 

Kal however doesn't seem phased, the smile never leaving his face. “I know you must be scared, but I won't hurt you.” His voice is soft, serene even. “But I need to have some answers, for instance-” and there it was, Bruce's heart was in his throat as he watched Kal lift up the shialis from the table beside him. “What is this?” He asked playfully.   
  
“Nothing.” He said on relex, and Kal frowned down at the object, toying with it in his hands.   
  
“So, if I were to break it, you wouldn’t care?” His hands went rigid and Bruce flew forward.

  
“No! Wait! Don’t-” but Kal had already let go, holding his hands up in mock surrender, his grin returning.   
  
“So this  _ is _ important to you, I see.” He nodded slowly, sighing. “Well, honesty is important to  _ me _ Bruce so why don’t we just honor what’s important to the both of and stop with the bullshit?” He set down the shialis, with a tenderness which was deliberate. Mocking him. “I’ll ask again. How did you get here?”   
  
“I used that.” He pointed towards the object and Kal's eyes flicked to it again. “It’s called a shialis and when I used it I wound up here, and i’m just trying to get back home.”

 

“Trying?” Kal said the word as though it was one he didn’t know.   
  
“Yes.” Bruce said quietly. “It’s a difficult machine to master and i've been going anywhere but where I want to.”

 

“So you came here on accident?” Kal asked.   
  
“Yes.” 

 

“Interesting.”  He said, though it doesn't seem he was upset at that revelation, only curious. He went back to his throne, setting himself down on it. Almost immediately his other knelt down beside him, his stare still on the floor. “Tell me, what’s your universe like?”

 

He hoped this question wouldn’t come up, but if he had learnt anything it was that his heartbeat was currently under strict observation. The minute he said anything untrue Kal would let him know and that thought unnerved him greatly. “It’s… different.” He began. “Clark and I-”   
  
But he didn’t even get that far, Kal burst into laughter at the mention of the name. “Oh my!” He said through the howling, his hand resting on his chest as he worked through the bouts. “I haven’t heard that name in a  _ very _ long time.” His laughter slowly came to an end, his smile remaining. “Tell me, what is this  _ Clark _ like?” And the way he said the name, like it was dirt on his shoe, made Bruce scowl.   
  
He fought with himself. The urge to defend Clark’s honour were at odds with his want to actually survive this encounter. He couldn’t help it though, his fists curled beside him as he spoke. “He’s kind. He’s just, and he would never,  _ ever _ make me kneel.” 

 

Kal doesn’t react for a moment, his face carefully neutral. “So, we’re more similar than I thought.” He said and Bruce wanted to laugh at the notion. Almost did but the way Kal eyed him told him he was already on thin ice. “I would never make you kneel before me Bruce. Ever.”   
  


Bruce eyed his other pointedly and Kal followed the stare, another burst of laughter coming out. “Oh come on, don’t tell me-” but he doesn't finish the sentence. “Bruce stand up.” His other did so without another word. “Run in place.” On que, his other did as told. “Now, smash your head onto the floor.” His other dropped to his knees and immediately crashed his head down onto the stone, the sound of his skull cracking deafening in the quiet room as it was repeated over and over and over-

  
“Tell him to stop!” He ran forward. “Tell him to stop, you fucking-”   
  
But Kal was on him, his hand holding his wrist like he was a china doll. His face so close he could feel his breath on his skin. “He. Is. Fake.” 

 

The Bruce kept up the actions until he was lumbering up to allow his head to fall back onto the ground with a muted thud, before long he lay there, his head still moving, still trying in a vain attempt to do as he was told. 

 

He scarcely believed what he was seeing. “Where am I?” Bruce asked, his voice barely above a whisper.   
  
“46.” Kal yelled loudly. “44.” Almost immediately, two more Bruce walked out, the same clothes and stance as the now bloody one before them. “Take 45 away and make sure to clean up the mess.” 

 

“Of course Kal El.” They both said together before walking over to the body, dragging it across the floor wordlessly. A trail of red following.

  
“What are-”   
  
“They’re my toys.” He said easily. “You see Bruce, whilst you seem to have a _ good _ Clark, I don’t have a good Bruce.” He sighed at that. “He never does what he’s told, always fighting, always disobeying and well…” And for the first time something other than pride or mania entered his eyes, it was sadness, though it was fleeting. “It gets lonely when I have to punish him, so I made more of him, more Bruce’s to play with when mine doesn’t want to.” He frowned at that thought. “The only problem is they don’t think like you, they never will. An AI could never replicate your mind, your will. Now they won’t have to” He smiled brightly. “With two of you. You can take turns. No more of the fakes. I bet you’ll even become best friends.” 

 

Bruce’s eyes watered, a silent tear falling. “Where am I?” He asked again.

  
“Earth silly. And you’re talking to its one true leader.” His other hand came up to his face, gripping his chin and bringing him to his lips. “So a little respect would be appreciated.” 

 

“No!” He tried to pull his hand free but he couldn’t, knows he can’t, but can’t help it anyway. “Let go of me, don’t you-” but something in Kal’s face stopped him, a edge there, something he hoped to never see again as long as he lived.

  
“Oh dear.” He said with a sigh. “It seems I now have  _ two _ bad Bruce’s.” He shook his head. “Oh well, with that little gadget over there i’ll be sure to pick up some more in the future, some who  _ appreciate _ the splender I let them live in. Until then I think you need to go to the naughty room and think for a while, because Bruce-” he grabbed his face again, this time hard edging on painful. “I own you. Remember that.” 

 

He blinked and Kal was gone. Where, he didn’t know, but all Bruce knew was he was now in another part of the fortress staring at a door with no lock, no keypad, no nothing. As he reached around the seam of it he knew he wasn’t getting out of this room. He slammed his fists against the door, his anger burning through the tears. “Fuck you!” He screamed, hoping Kal would hear him wherever he was.

 

He heard something then, a rattle followed by a muffled question. He turned his head and his mind left him.

 

“Oh dear God.”

  
There he was. His other. His real other. Tied up against the wall, restrights preventing him for doing anything other than sit or stand. His whole head was covered aside from a slit for him to breath through by his nose. His head was turned toward him despite his eyes being covered and again, that same muffled question was asked but Bruce couldn’t do anything to answer it. Standing there and watching as his other tried to walk toward him, his panic evident in the way his muffled yells became louder, more laboured. 

 

Bruce’s threw up. It was a long time coming. His panic, combined with everything else caused him to fall to the floor, dribbles of pancake landing in front of it. He sobbed as he tried to think of anything he could do to fix this, but nothing came. His ticket out of here was with a maniac.

 

His other stopped his body going rigid. He tried to make another sound, was he trying to comfort him? Bruce looked up from his puddle, and he steeled himself, wiping his face as he got up. He walked over and pulled the mask off in one swift movement.

 

From the shock of the bright light his other flinched, moaning around the gag in his mouth as he tried to keep his eyes half shut. Bruce could sympathise, his headache was pulsing constantly now thanks to his stomach and he too was squirting through the brightness. His other eventually stood back up, making another grunting noise and Bruce took the hint, easing the gag from his mouth.   
  
“What are you?” He asked quietly, his voice rough and Bruce looked around for anything to drink. There was nothing. He too tried to ignore the burn in his throat.

 

“What do you mean?”    
  
“You dont look like the other fakes, I mean you even-” he looked over at the puddle. “So what are you?”   
  
“I’m you.” He said and tried not to let the look of skepticism hurt him. “I came from another universe.”   
  
This apparently was not what to say as his others eyes blew wide. “Why in the name of God did you come here?”   
  
“I didn’t mean to.” He said sharply. “You think I wanted this? It was a mistake, a horrific cataclysmic mistake that I wish I could fix.”   
  
“Yeah, well this  _ mistake _ is my hell hole.” His other shook his head, but the movement cause pain to flash across his face. “I need-” He groaned. “I need to lie down, I need sleep and food and-” but he fell back into his seat. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get angry at you, it’s just…”   
  
“Believe me. I know.” 

 

He smiled at that. “I suppose you do.” He winced when he looked up. “I guess we're roomies now.”

 

“How…” Bruce sat down on the floor in front of him, his own legs giving up as well. “How did all this happen?”   
  
“What, you mean you don’t have a tyrannical dictator for a lover where you're from?” 

 

“No.” Bruce shook his head as he swallowed. “No, I don’t.”   
  
“Well I do.” He said with a smile so forced Bruce could see the muscles straining. “You see, our earth had some issues, and instead of dealing with it like a rational being, Kal chose instead to enslave humanity.” Bruce shook his head, his smile still inplace. “But that’s not the best part, the League tried to stop him and guess what. All dead! That’s right, he even has a little trophy room where all their armour is. The boys? Dead too!” Bruce was laughing now, his eyes brimming with tears. “Yup! Killed them all then brought me here, expecting me to be his perfect little lover and go along with the mass genocide, but no!” He screamed the last part. “You hear me Kal! I said no!” He fell back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He was crying openly now, tears sliding down his face. “He won’t let me die. I want to die and he-”   
  
“Don’t say that.” Bruce came forward, his hands on either side of his others face, forcing him to look at him. “What if he hears you.”   
  
“He can’t hear us.” Bruce muttered. “Sound proofed this room. Doesn't like hearing me scream.” He jerked his head to the door. “He has the fakes check on me regularly and can hear through them if he wants, can also talk through them.” 

 

That revelation does something to ease Bruce. At least Kal won’t listen to them when they plot their escape. In fact it gives him hope. “We can get out of here. I know we can.” 

  
“No, we can’t.” He said, his face glistening. “You don’t get it, this whole planet is his, everyone on it is his, he's slowly taking over the known universe. We can't escape.” He shut his eyes. “I try to behave, and... Some days it’s easier. When he’s in a good mood I can deal with all the shit he does, but something will just make me flip and I go crazy, start screaming at him and-” he looks around the room. “I end up here.”

 

“Does he fed you in here?” He looked around pointedly at the lack of furniture.   
  
“Doesn’t have to.” Bruce said as he jutted his head behind himself. “Most of these straps have tubs in them, for fluids, nutrients and-” he looked down pointedly at the one on his crotch. “-other things.” He pressed his lips together. “Sometimes he’ll leave me here for days at a time, break me down until I come to him willingly. The only way he’ll have me. A never ending cycle. My personal hell.” 

 

“He can’t keep you here forever.” Bruce offered as a small consolation prize, which not surprisingly was hit away almost immediately.

 

“That's what you think. The one benefit of Kal being the overlord of earth means he can have the scientists under his control research whatever he wants, including ways to extend human life.” He nodded to himself as he spoke, as though he too was coming to terms with what that meant for himself. “Yup, you heard right, i’m probably going to live just as long as he is.” 

 

“But…” He tried to think of something, anything to say, but nothing came and he looked up at his other with that fact painted across his face.

  
“It’s okay, i’ve come to terms with it all. It’s not bad, sometimes-” he closes his eyes. “Sometimes I even see glimpses of the old Clark poke out. It’s what keeps me going. The hope he’ll come to his senses. The hope the man I love is still in there.” 

 

They sat in silence for a while, and Bruce really hoped they aren't going to be locked in here for the potential few days his other suggested. His vomit was already giving off an odour and despite the IV drips his other was looking more than haggard as he sat and stared at the wall.

 

Eventually one of his prayers was answered. Not the big one. But one of them. A fake opened the door and regarded them both. “Kal wishes for you both, in the bedroom.”   
  
Before he can speak his other does. “Tell him he can go fuck himself.”   
  
The fake doesn't so much as move. “He said you may be resistant. He told me to tell you that now that there is two of you he is far less concerned with keeping you in pristine condition.”   
  
His other nodded, his face going red. “Is that a threat Kal?” He asked the room, knowing he was listening. He was no longer speaking to the fake, speaking up and into the room. “If that was a threat come and deliver! Beat the shit out of me! I don’t care! I don’t care any-” but he was gone, falling forward and Bruce thought it actually happened, he rushed to him checking for a pulse. When he found it he sighed, though it was short lived as he saw the fake pressing buttons on the wall. 

  
“What are you doing?”   
  
“I administered a sedative. Kal El told me to.” 

  
“So he’s unconscious.”  _ Not dead _ . 

  
“Yes.”

 

“When will he wake up?”   
  
“Soon.”   
  
“Can you ask Kal El if I can have something to drink?”   
  
The fake paused his typing, listening to something apparently. He shook his head. “He said not until you behave.” 

  
“ _ Please _ .” He can’t help it, he knew he couldn’t win here and his pride was just going to have to understand that. “Please Kal, I-”

 

The fake stopped again. Turning to him. “He’ll do it if you perform fellatio on him.” 

 

“Wait-” the words caught him and he recoiled. “What-”   
  
“He said, he’ll give you anything you want if you perform felatio on him.” 

 

“No.” He said firmly.   
  
The fake shrugged. “Fine.”   
  
His head throbbed. “But…”   
  
The fake rolled his eyes and sighed. “Make up your mind. Master Kal detests indecision as much as he detests disobedience.”   
  
He could hold out, could maybe wait until his other awoke, but then what? They could be miserable together? His head throbbed, his throat burned and his stomach growled. He closed his fists together. “I’ll do it.” He got up on shaky legs. “But I want a meal, water and something for my head if I do.”   
  
His fake nodded easily. “Yes, yes you’ll get all of that, follow me.” He stepped away from the console and immediately it disappeared back into the wall and the panel covering it came back into place. They left the room and the fake spoke to another standing there. “Keep an eye on the other one.” The fake nodded, standing to attention just inside the little room. Bruce was left to follow him to what he could only assume was the bedroom.

 

As they entered he tried not to let the sight of two fakes kissing Kal surprise him, he kept his breathing even as he walked further into the room. “I brought him to you Kal El, he is willing.”    
  
Kal stopped kissing the fakes and turned to him, his erection was straining against the cover and yet neither fake touched it, unmoving and stoic as they sat and stared at him. “Finally, I was going to kill someone if I had to kiss these  _ walls  _ any longer.” He clapped his hands. “Leave us. Now.” 

 

The fakes rose from the bed and followed after the first as they left the room. Bruce stared at Kal from where he stood, unwilling and not wanting to move closer. Kal however was having none of that. “Come here.” He curled his finger towards him.   
  
“I said i’ll-” 

 

“Yes I heard you, you’ll only do it for blah blah blah-” He snapped his fingers and a fake walked into the room, holding a tray aloft. Bruce felt his hope rise and suddenly crumble when he saw what was on it. Water. Bread. And one single pill tablet. “You’ll get more after.” 

 

Bruce eyes it suspiciously. “What is it?”   
  
“Paracetamol.” He said quickly. “Now-” he waved his hand at the plate and Bruce sighed as he took the pill, swallowing it with the water. He swallowed the bread down too, not missing how dry and tasteless it was. Wonderful. He sold his soul for  _ that _ .

 

Kal however beamed down at him, sitting forward. Curling his finger again. “Come here.”

 

“Why…” he looked down at his feet. “Why don't you get the fakes to do it?” He eyed the one in front of him.   
  
Kal however isn’t angry at the question, falling back into his pillows with a sigh. “I told you, they look like you but they don't think like you.” He shrugs, toying with the edge of the blanket. “They can’t feel anything, no pain, no pleasure. Can only do or say what I tell them to.” He huffed a laugh. “Do you know how unsatisfying it is to fuck something and hear nothing, no moans, no names, just blank silence as they look up at you waiting for their next command.” He shook his head. “Can’t stand it.”   
  
“We won’t-” he gulped. “We won’t be having sex, right? Just…”   
  
Kal gave a small smile. “Yes, just-” he grabs himself through the fabric and hisses at the contact. “It’s been so long. Please Bruce.”  

 

With great reluctance Bruce walked forward, his body stiff with stress and pent up anger. Kal frowned at the display, falling back against the pillows. “Look, if you're going to be like this, you can go back to your room. You said you were willing.”

 

“Why is that such a big deal for you?” He asked genuinely. “Why don't you just take me? Bruce said it himself, you’ve taken everything else. Why let us keep that?”

 

Kal watched him, his eyes burning into him with their intensity. “I’m not a monster.”

 

“Right.” He said. “You just killed all of my friends and family and locked me up in your own personal torture room.”  

 

“I only do that because he hasn’t learnt how to behave yet.” Kal sighed and rubbed his hands across his face. “I don't want to do it. I didn't want to kill the others either, but when they heard what I was doing, they just-” he sighed. “They made their decision.”

  
“And Bruce made his.” He said bluntly. “He doesn't want to be here anymore, and he definitely doesn't want to have sex with you.”

 

Anger, pure and hot crossed Kal’s face and Bruce felt his heart hammer in his chest. He should have kept his mouth shut.

 

“Don’t listen to him Kal.” Bruce turned to the voice and there his other stood, now free, and leaning against the wall, a fake stood beside him as he leant against the doorway. He had a playful smile on his face, though his eyes quickly flicked to Bruce, a silent command to remain quiet.

  
“Bruce?” Kal sat up eyeing him suspiciously. “You-” he frowned. “Leave us.” He said to the fakes and with a bow they left, leaving Bruce alone to watch this display. “What’s all this crap this Bruce has been telling me?”

 

“I was just jealous Kal.” Bruce said as he came forward, his hands behind his back as he sauntered across the room, swaying his hips as he did. Kal’s eyes followed the movement and his hand trailed along his own thigh, grabbing himself again. “Can you blame me? Locking me in that room and then bringing this  _ thing _ out?” He made it to the bed, lowering himself and trailing his finger along Kal’s jaw, bringing his mouth to his. “I thought you loved me?”   
  
“I do.” Kal growled out, his hands grabbing his thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. “I love you so much Bruce, I love-” as the words poured out he came forward, trailing soft kisses along his neck. Bruce watched his other and just as he did, he turned to him, the mask of emotion he wore suddenly gone. He mouthed something to him, and it took a moment for Bruce to realise what.  _ ‘Play along. I can get you out.’ _

 

His eyebrows flew up at the suggestion. And Bruce held Kal’s face against him, moaning hard as he licked at his collarbone, Kal lapped up the attention, groaning as he ground himself on Bruce’s thigh. His other looked back over at him.  _ ‘Walked past throne room. It’s empty. Wait for my signal to run.’ _

 

So that was the plan. Fuck Kal to keep him distracted whilst he escaped. His breathing hitched at the idea. Could he do it?

 

“Kal.” Bruce said finally, pushing him back and surprisingly the man went willinging, looking up at Bruce with blown pupils, and gaping mouth. “I don’t like him watching…” He said quietly, glaring over at him as he does. “Tell him to wait outside whilst we play.”   
  
“But my moon, he’s not-”   
  
“I don’t care!” Bruce slammed his hands down on his shoulders, turning his head away. “I thought you loved me! I’m  _ your  _ Bruce aren't I? Not him!” He threw his hand at him, and Bruce was surprised at the hatred on his face. “I don’t want him here! Or-” he sniffled. “Or do you not want me anymore… Is that it?” He said the last part quietly and Kal’s face fell.   
  
“No my moon, of course I want you.” Bruce is taken aback by the panic there, by the way Kal’s eyes frantically trail over Bruce like at any moment he’ll disappear. “I’ve wanted you so long, I want you now, please-”   
  
“Then tell him to go away.” His other said, crossing his arms. 

 

Kal turned to him then, his ambivalence apparent across his face. “Wait outside.” He pointed his finger towards the archway before going back to Bruce’s neck, sucking and kissing one spot after another leaving a string of bruises across his collar bone.

 

Bruce couldn’t help it. He lingered. ‘ _ I can’t leave you here.’  _ He mouthed.

 

His other smiled at that, his eyes watering. He didn’t say anything but he didn't have to. His face said it all.  _ You can't save me _ .  

 

Bruce wanted to stay, to fight, but he also knew that this was his one shoot. Who knew if it would work again, he managed another look over to his other and watched as he moaned from Kal’s mouth on him. If it wasn’t for the look of abject disgust on his face as he did, Bruce may have called it sweet. 

 

By the door, he heard it all, the moaning, the crooning of names. He wanted to vomit again, but he needed to be strong if he was to use the shialis. The tiny cup of water and bread helped a little but not enough, he needed sleep but prayed he could still work the shialis without it.

 

He lost himself in the worry until he heard it. A long string of moans, bundled with words. “God! Kal! Yes! Go! More! Please!” It kept going and Bruce felt his legs moving and before he knew it he was running, not looking back, the screams followed him, getting louder and louder as he ran. Covering up any noise he was making.

 

He kept running. All of the fakes were nowhere to be seen, going into hiding when they weren’t needed he supposed. When he reached the throne room, there it was. Still sitting where he last saw it. Glimmering in the light like a beacon, beckoning him home. He couldn’t help but let out a cry of victory as he ran to it, wrapping it around his arm as quickly as he could muster. 

 

He stopped then, turning to the door and in a brief moment of remorse spoke out to the empty room before him. “I’m sorry.” He said, hoping it would reach his other. He closed his eyes as he fluttered from existence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! YOU ALL BELIEVED ME WHEN I SAID THE NEXT CHAPTER WOULD BE HAPPIER! I LIED. I LIED TO YOU ALL. FEEL THE PAIN, FEEL IT AND SUFFER. WHAHAHAHA. 
> 
> Real talk though, this is probably my favourite of the universes so far. I have a thing for evil Clark and if y’all are into it too i’d be tempted to write a little stand alone about them. See, this and a few other universes I think need more context but I don't want to bombard you with it all in the chapter cause I think it sounds way to expository and not natural like a real conversation would be so here ya go-
> 
> The gist of this one is Kal went rouge (why? I'll leave to your imagination. Could be Injustice universe if y’all feel like it), killed the League when they tried to stop him but was still madly in love with Bruce. Bruce being a rational human being is rightly horrified by Clark and tried to leave/stop him, but Clark unable to live without Bruce, kidnaps him and keeps him locked up in the fortress, unable to leave or die. Clark can't stand seeing Bruce hate him or being sad so keeps him in a soundproof room whenever he misbehaves, waiting for Bruce to want to come out on his own and be with him, allowing Clark too fool himself into thinking that Bruce still loves him and isn't acting this way because Clark has somehow forced him to. That’s the reason consent is a big deal for this Clark. Even though Bruce is totally unwilling here, he acts like he is because he knows it's the only way to get what he wants from Clark. Because that is the only thing Clark wants from him. Love. Real love. Clark in a small way knows its all fake, but kids himself into thinking Bruce really does love him and is not manipulating him to get what he wants. They both use each other, though Bruce is clearly at the disadvantage here. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the mini essay, I just really like this idea. It’s basically a Yandere!Clark and I do love me some sweet cinnamon roll characters getting a Yandere make over. :D 
> 
> As always please comment what you’re all thinking! I love hearing from you all, and getting you're input! Till next time.


	6. Universe: MH 567 332 112

As he awoke, the first thing he noticed was the breeze on his face. 

 

The second was the lapping water along his body.

 

He sat up slowly, prising his eyes open and looking toward the rising sun ahead of him. The realization that he escaped hit him like a ton of bricks, sending him into a fit of giddy laughter. He got out. He was free, he-

  
He left his other behind.

 

His laughter stopped. 

 

He didn't know how, but he was going to free him. Somehow. He had to.

 

For now however, he had to focus on getting home. He surveyed his surroundings. It was dawn if the rising sun was anything to go by, and the water was cool on his skin as he sat and watched the sky.

  
A beach. A remote one at that. By the looks of things he was the only one here. 

  
Bruce wondered if that was possible. He supposed with the concept of infinity at play, anything was possible. He did know there was more here than met the eye. It was a feeling that was becoming instilled in him slowly but surely.   
  
His suspicions were confirmed when he rose from his spot on the sand and ambled along the shore line. He had no real aim in mind other than to find a place to rest that wouldn’t result in him drowning. The ache in his head was minimal, with its presence only being felt when he'd cast his eyes to the horizon, to watch the sun slowly lumbering its way higher into the sky. 

 

It was as his eyes were cast out towards the sea that he saw it. A small boat, making its way back towards the land and more importantly from what Bruce could see; toward a dock with a small house sat beside it.

 

Hopefully said house had a bed, and some food, and an owner who was open to the concept of interdimensional travel. He kept walking, and eventually reached the small jetty. The boat had already docked by the time he’d made his way there and the person manning it jumped from the craft.

 

So surprised from the man's sudden appearance, Bruce barely had a second to comprehend that the ill kempt man with a beard that encompassed most of his face, was in fact Clark.

 

He knew his face must have betrayed shock as the man's eyes narrowed at him. “This is private land.” He said quietly, his voice husky as he braced his hand onto the side of the boat, his glare never lowering. “How’d you get out here?” 

  
No recognition. Odd. Bruce cleared his throat. “Clark?”   


 

  
This caught him and his eyes narrowed. “Who sent you?”  
  


  
“What-” he tried to keep his composure, but this Clark had something more than just a hint of menace surrounding him. “I know this is going to sound weird.” He began, trying to speak evenly. “But my name is Bruce Wayne, and i’ve come from another universe.”

 

This didn't so much as phase the man, as he rolled his eyes and made to leave. “I’m not in the League anymore. Go bother them with this shit.”   
  
“Wait-” He reached forward and in one moment Clark’s hand was on his wrist, holding it in front of him like it weighed nothing.   
  
“No. You leave. Now.” He let go and walked down the dock, leaving Bruce to stare at the space he once occupied.

  
He was really not a fan of the shialis taking him to  universes with asshole Clark’s all of a sudden, and hoped the next one would break this newly emerging trend. He turned and followed after him. “Just give me a chance, okay? The fact is, this universe must have a Bruce Wayne in it too. I’ve been doing this long enough to know.”   


 

  
Clark blew a raspberry. “Don’t know anyone with that name.” He called over his shoulder, and perhaps in a moment of the real Clark poking through, he turned back around, the barest hint of concern showing. “But you seem like you need help, so I can take you to see Diana, she runs the League and she may be able to help.”  
  


 

  
“I don’t need to to talk to her.” He really didn’t even need to be talking to this Clark, but hell if he wasn’t going to anyway. “I know how to get out of here. I just need to rest, and eat, and then i’ll be on my way and you’ll never see me again.”  
  
  
Clark pondered those words for a moment before his eyes went to the sea, seemingly lost in the eb and flow of the tide. For a moment Bruce could have sworn he saw something flash in that stare. Fear? Awe? But it was gone, replaced almost instantly with a somewhat neutral scowl. “Fine. Come inside.” 

 

The shack was barely large enough for the two men and after a moment of Bruce not knowing where to sit Clark plopped himself on the bed and gestured for Bruce to take the recliner in the corner. He reached under the bed, his hand bumping into the metal tub also under there and pulled out a small crate of beer, plucking one out and opening it. “So, colour me intrigued. When you say you're from another universe, what do you mean by that?”   
  
He laid back in the chair, already feeling his tired muscles thanking him. “It means that there is something that differs between our worlds, causing us to have lead different lives in one way or another. For instance in my universe you work for the Daily Planet as a reporter, as well as having a side job as...” He gave a small smile. “As, well, Superman.”

 

“Wow.” Clark ran his hand across his face. “I ain’t heard the name Superman in a long time…” He eyed Bruce, his stare still cautious. “So I guess that goes  _ part  _ way to proving your theory.”   
  
“Well, we can confirm my theory quite easily, if as I said, find my equivalent in this universe.” But Clark’s earlier words had shaken him. What if he  _ didn’t  _ exist here? It was entirely possible and yet he knew in his heart it wasn’t the case. The universe's the shialis was taking him to all had one thing in common. He and Clark were together. It didn't seem like he’d come somewhere where that wasn't a possibility.    
  
Clark gave a slow nod, sipping his beer. “Yeah, you seem dead set on that but I can tell you I ain't never heard of no ‘Bruce Wayne’.”   
  
“What about Batman?”   
  
“Nope.”   
  
He thought for a moment. “Gotham?”

 

A shake of the head.    
  
This caught Bruce, and he would have inquired further had his eyes not spotted the map taped onto the wall beside him.

 

He hadn’t even paid it any mind until it slowly dawned on him that this was not a map of earth he’d ever seen before.

  
The entirely of the world's land mass was that of an archipelago, thousands upon thousands of small islands that constituted the world. America, europe, asia, all of them were shattered, with large stretches of water separating countries who were once neighbours. Sure enough, when he stared at the country he thought he knew, there was no sign of a city called Gotham. Only an empty blue spot that should have been his home.

 

He had no idea this was even possible. A universe were pangea became so fractured that there was no continents, only islands. It was too much for him to take in and he changed tact. “Are you seeing anybody?”   
  
This elicited the desired response, as Clark's eyes blew wide and the sip of beer he had been taking ended up coming from his mouth in a cough. “ _ What? _ ”   
  
“It’s just that in my universe, Clark are I are somewhat of an item. I was merely inquiring if you were seeing anyone yourself.” He said casually, attempting to keep his face neutral. He must have failed if Clark’s soured expression was anything to go by.

  
“That's not funny.” He set his beer down with a sense of finality that made Bruce wonder if he  _ was  _ going to end up drowning tonight. “I thought you were being serious here, if you’re just playing around with me-”   
  
“I’m not.” He said earnestly. “Im just-” confused? Scared? He didn't really know, all he did know is that the version of earth this Clark was relaying to him seemed more than just slightly off, and not just for the fractured earth. “Curious.” He finally settled on as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on Clark. “You don’t have to tell me, but,  _ is _ there anybody?”    
  
Clark’s face remained closed off. His hand became a fist, slowly tensing and releasing, the fingers apparently unsure of what course of action to take. To fight or to fly. It only took a few more moments of silence before the veneer chipped and Clark sighed heavily, his head lolling downward and his hand finally resting by his side, defeated. “I  _ knew _ you looked familiar… I just didn't want to believe it.” 

 

Bruce nodded slowly, trying not to let his relief at finally getting somewhere become too apparent. “Who is it?”

 

Clark got up from his seat and gestured back outside, towards his boat. “We need to go out to sea to answer that.” 

 

He wasn't exactly expecting a nautical adventure but Bruce followed Clark aboard the boat none the less, exploring the vessel as Clark got them ready to depart.

 

It was a small craft, with all the bare necessities crammed into one room. A cot, a cupboard, a door which presumably went off to a even tinier bathroom. Despite its relative sparsity it seemed lived in, with the sheets worn and the counters displaying signs of repeated use. He wondered what Clark did out in the open ocean, but that answer was soon to be uncovered as the boat traveled further out.

 

There didn't seem to be anything else around for miles, and the sea glittered softly with the morning light. Bruce sat beside Clark as he sailed, his eyes remaining fixed on the horizon, forgetting Bruce was even sat beside him.

 

Bruce himself felt lost in thought as the water rushed by them. He barely registered the engine cutting out, nor the tap on his shoulder. Pulling his eyes from the sea, he turned to Clark, his expression one of question as Clark gestured to the back of the boat.

 

The back had a small platform that jutted out over the sea. Ideal for fishing, and from what Bruce could see that's what Clark used it for. There was a whole host of polls and bait boxes back here, and this far out Bruce had to wonder what could be caught. 

 

Clark sat down on the platform, removing his shoes and socks and dangling his feet into the water, kicking his feet until the water splashed up. He patted the wood next to him and Bruce didn't need to be told twice. He sat down but kept his feet out of the water. 

 

As he looked down into the deep blue, he felt a heat in his blood. The ocean never usually caused him any issue. He’d visited Atlantis enough to build up somewhat of an immunity to it, but where he was now? In an unknown universe were the earth was a mass of ocean with a million possibilities underneath its waves. He felt his heartbeat quicken, and his eyes went to Clark. “Just so we’re on the same page, this world isn't infested with Cthulhu style monsters that live in the ocean, right?”

 

It took a moment for Clark to realise Bruce had even spoken and eventually he turned to him. “Huh? Oh no.” He shook his head. “Nothing like that.”   
  
Bruce gave a nod. “So what's the reason we’re out here then?”   
  
“Were waiting for someone.”   
  
“Right.” He pursed his lips. “Any idea when they’ll get here?”   
  
“I don't know, could be a minute, could be an hour.” Suddenly Clark lips broke into a smirk. “Could be right now.” 

 

Bruce turned from Clark to the sea, where a head was now poking up from the water. After the initial shook, something became very apparent to Bruce.    
  
The merman looked just like him.    
  
He turned to Clark who was still looking toward the creature. “I was not expecting this.” 

 

The merman didn't take his eyes of Bruce, his stare sharp and watchful. From what Bruce could see poking above the water, his skin was white, though parts were replaced with an inky blue, almost a match to the water surrounding him. His ears, long and tapered, were dark before the colour subsided to a milky white across his face. 

  
He pressed his lips together. “I’m a mermaid here.”   
  
“Apparently.”   
  
“And you're…” He tried to think how best to phrase it. “In a relationship with him?”   
  
“Yup.”   
  
“How does that even work?”   
  
Clark turned from the water to Bruce his lips drawn thin. “That's personal.”    
  
Bruce’s eyes blew wide, his own words repeating in his head. “I didn't meant like that! I meant-” he have a huff. “I meant, you live on land and he lives in the sea, I just would have thought that would be difficult relationship to maintain.” 

 

Clark, placated by the words, gave a shrug. “Not really, I come out here on my boat and he swims to the shore.” 

 

“Does he ever come out of the water?” 

 

Clarks cleared his throat, looking away. “Sometimes.”   
  
“Do you go in?”   
  
“No.” 

 

“Any reason?”   
  
“He’s a mermaid.” He said blankly.

  
“You say that as if that's a bad thing.” 

 

Clark turned to him, frowning. “You not have mermaids in you're universe?” 

 

He bristled. “Yes, we do, so I don't see why you can't get in the water with him.”   
  
“Well obviously we have different kinds of mermaids, cause here, if you get in the water with them.” He reached for one of the fishing poles. “You die.” He finished as he went about putting bait on the hook.    
  
Bruce turned to him sharply. “Pardon?”   
  
“You heard.” He jerked his head towards the still bobbing face of the mermaid, his attention was now on the hook in his hands. “Mermaids are sneaky little fuckers, they lure you,  _ tempt _ you, and then, when they finally have you, they either eat you alive or they toy with you until you drown.” Clark threw the baited line into the water and the mermaid sunk down into the waves to follow it. “They’re pure evil.”   
  
“And yet…” Bruce gestured his hand out towards the water. “You're in a relationship with one.”

 

“Yup.”   
  


“Right.” Bruce turned to him. “Care to go into more detail?”    
  
Clark gave shrug of the shoulders. “Maybe.” He turned to him then, and looking at Bruce’s empty hands and inquisitive stare before huffing. “Grab my cooler from the back and get a pole. May as well be fishing if you’re just gonna sit there and gawp at me.”

 

He did as he was told, finding the lukewarm beer and the older than he was pole in the rack beside them. When he returned to Clark, the merman was back by his feet, his hands now out of the water, trailing across Clark’s calves, revealing more of the dark skin there as well as extensive scarring that put his own to shame. 

 

As Bruce approached, the merman sunk back into the water, retreating to the same distance as before, his eyes back on him. “He doesn't seem to like me.”   
  
“They’re very territorial. Probably sees you as competition.”   
  
Bruce looked towards the mermaid. “Can he even understand us?” He tried to see if the words he said elicited any kind of response, but nothing came. Just the same unnerving stare. 

 

“Not that I know of.”   
  
“Wouldn't you like to know?” Bruce began baiting his pole and as he spoke. “I just can't imagine you have much of a relationship if neither of you can understand each other.”   
  
“We understand each other plenty.” Clark said reaching for the open cooler and pulling a beer free from the puddle of water at the bottom of it.

 

“How?”

 

“Reasons.” 

  
Bruce heaved a sigh. “Can you try giving me answer longer than one word?”

  
“Maybe.” 

 

Bruce felt what little patience he had was whiling away into oblivion and he too reached for a beer, opening it and sucking back several pulls, he kept his hand on the poll and sipped slowly, his eyes going to his other. “You said he sees me as competition.”

 

“I did.”   
  
“What do you mean by that?”   
  
Clark scoffed. “What do you think I mean by that?”   
  
“A lot of things.” He said sharply. “Forgive me for apparently asking  _ simple _ questions, but when the person answering them is as closed off as you one has to ask the asinine.” 

 

That elicited a laugh and Clark shook his head with a smirk. “I’ll give you that one.”   
  
“Good.” Bruce kept his eyes firmly on the line in front of him. “So do you think you could drop the attitude?”

 

He didn’t say anything for a while, with the only sound being that of lapping water against the boat. Sometimes his other would duck into the water only to return with his own fish, placing them in the cooler along with the beer. Even as Bruce finished his first can he didn't reach for another, not wanting to touch the still twitching fish now residing beside them. Clark however had no such problem, plunging his arm into the wriggling mass and retrieving another can. He held in briefly up towards Bruce, and when the man shook his head, Clark shrugged, pulling the ring pull and taking a sip. “Coming out here, you can just forget everything.” He said as he looked down to the can. “It’s like all there is is you and the water, nothing else for miles and miles.” His line pulled and he started to reel it in. “You're wrong though. You're never alone out here.” 

 

“How long have you lived by the sea?”   
  
“A while.” Bruce didn't expect more, but after a few moments Clark continued. “I used to live in Metropolis.”   
  
“Fancied a change in scenery?” He tried to say with a smile, but one look at Clark told him that wasn’t the case.   
  
Clark turned to him, his eyes boring him his skull with their intensity. “Metropolis was…” He said slowly, as though gathering up the words in his head and setting them all in place before he spoke. As though it was something he only wanted to explain once. “We were hit badly by a tsunami.” He paused, throwing his line back out. “See, we get them a lot here. Lot of seismic activity in these parts. Most of the time that means tremors, the kind you can barely even feel, but sometimes it means waves so big that a seismograph may as well just read ‘you’re fucked’ in great big letters.”

 

“The wave knocked over skyscrapers, that’s how powerful it was. Half of Metropolis became rubble in seconds. I tried to save as many people as I could, but there were too many and I just couldn’t seem to move fast enough. People were drowning all around me, getting crushed by the debris or getting eaten by the fucking mermaids riding in after the wave.” He looked at Bruce, and in his eyes Bruce saw nothing but the pain and misery that only years of regret can cause. “I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if i’d worked harder, if i’d paid more attention, maybe more of them wouldn't blame me for what happened.”    
  
“Why would they blame you? You tried to save them.”   
  
“Key word: tried.” Clark closed his eyes. “No one wants to know if you ‘tried’ to save them. They only care if you succeed.” He pulled another can from the cooler. “Diana wanted to keep me a member of the League after Metropolis fell, but I just couldn't… I failed and the last thing people needed was for me to rub that failure in their faces with my presence.” He took a sip from the can. “I think it just made everyone realise we’re at the mercy of the ocean and any second it could wipe another city off the map. Just like it wiped Metropolis.”   
  
“Clark…” Bruce leant forward, his hand finding the others back, resting it there in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “You did everything you could. That's something people after the fact always forget, in times of crisis you have to react, there isn’t time to think about the different possibilities, chances are more would have died if you had.”

 

Clark nodded, and thankfully didn't seem to object as Bruce grazed his hand along the muscles of his shoulders. “I forgave myself for what happened a long time ago, but sometimes memories have a habit of stinging, even old ones.”   
  
Bruce nodded. “I know.” He looked out to the ocean. “Believe me, I know.”

 

They didn't talk again, not for while. They didn't need to, their silent understanding speaking volumes. Bruce kept his stare out across the water, watching as the waves came and went. Clark too became lost in thought, barely noticing the tug on his line, nor the apparent cause of it. The merman before them swam languidly around the boat, occasionally pulling at their lines or giving them the fish that were caught on them when neither saw to pulling them in. He didn't seem evil, but then again, Bruce imagined that was the point. 

 

“How much do you know about them?” He said, jerking his head toward the body in the water. 

 

“We know a bit.” Clark shrugged. “What little marine biologists have managed to observe of them out in the wild is that they’re pack hunters, living in small clusters. Never alone. Thing is, i’ve never seen Blue with any other mermaid, so I guess he’s a loner and this here, is his spot, and all the other mermaids don’t come near it. ”

 

Bruce smiled. “Blue?”

  
Despite the beard, Bruce knew a blushing Clark when he saw one. “Well yeah, I don't just call him ‘it’ or ‘mermaid’, I call him Blue ‘cause…” He rolled his eyes. “He’s blue, well, some of him is blue…” He glared at him. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  
So Bruce stopped staring, his smile however did not waver. “What does he think about his name?”   
  
Clark shrugged. “Not like he’d say anything if he hated it, I don’t think he can talk anyway, at least not in any language I can understand. He screams like you would not believe though. I remember hearing a recording of some mermaids once a while back, it was like whale song. Blue sounds like a cat being garroted in comparison.”   
  
“Does he sound like that in all the  _ activities  _ he takes part in?” Bruce asked sweetly.   
  
“Fuck you.” Clark muttered, though his face bore the tiniest of smiles.   
  


As the sun reached higher and higher into the sky, Bruce began to feel the heat, the temptation to put his feet into the cool water growing by the minute. He didn't though, his earlier uncertainty holding him back. He looked toward the shade at the back of the boat and gestured with his hand to Clark. “I think gonna sit in the shade, get out of the heat.”   
  
Clark barely looked up. “Put your feet in the water, that’ll cool you.”   
  
“Yeah…” He looked into the deep blue. “I’d rather not, I don't-”   
  
“He won’t pull you in if that’s why you're worried.” He eyed him, though he didn’t appear to be entirely present. Bruce had lost count of the amount of beer he’d drunk. “And you don’t have to worry about any others trying to do it whilst he’s here.”

 

“Why?” he looked to the merman who kept moving around the boat, sometimes coming toward Clark and sometimes ducking away entirely.

 

“It’s like I said. They’re territorial. Anyone who fights him, doesn’t win. Believe me. I’ve seen enough corpses out here to know.” 

 

“Is that why you don’t go in the water with him, you think he'd try and kill you?”   
  
“Yeah.” Clark muttered. “Keyword: try. He don’t know what I am, to him i’m just a regular old fisherman, and as long as I stay out of the water that's how it will remain. The minute I get in the water and he pulls me down, well, tries to, is when all this ends.” Clark closed his eyes. “And in case you ain’t realised, I don’t want it to end.”   
  
“You love him?”   
  
He didn’t answer immediately, setting his pole aside and resting his hand barely above the surface of the water and before he knew it, Bruce saw a hand near the surface, fingers barely poking up above the surf towards Clark’s. “I wasn't lying when I said we understand each other, he stays ‘cause he wants me, for eating, for fucking, I don’t know, and I stay because I don’t like being alone anymore.” He let his fingers wrap around the others gently easing them both from the water. He lent back and pulled his hand free, though his others still lingered there, reaching for him before slinking back into the water.

 

“I-” But Bruce didn't know what to say, his heart aching in so many ways.

  
“I know how pathetic that sounds, but I can’t help it. There’s something about him that keeps me here. Maybe it's a vain sliver of hope that everything we know about his species is wrong. That he doesn't just act like this with me because he wants me to lower my guard and pull me down when he gets the chance.” He didn’t resume fishing, sitting with his hands held in his lap as he watched the water. 

 

“I know it mustn't seem like it, but I really am glad I got to meet you. If you’re right about this whole universe thing, it makes me think that maybe I’m right about him and a little part of you really is in Blue.” He closed his eyes. “Maybe he isn’t evil and maybe… Maybe he loves me back.” 

 

He didn’t know what he was doing until he was on Clark, his arms wrapping around his body, his hand finding Clark’s own, still cool from the water. Bruce wanted Clark to know he was sorry, sorry that he lived in a world where he felt so alone.

 

Bruce barely registered the merman popping his head up from the water again. As he turned to him however, Bruce saw something other than indifference on his face. 

 

He saw fury.

 

Slowly, he let go of Clark, Bruce pulled back. “Clark, I don’t-”

 

But he didn’t get to finish his answer, as the other lunged forward, his hands grabbing at his legs and pulling him into the water. He tried in vain to keep calm, attempting to make out anything in the abyss below.

 

And that's when he saw them.

 

Eyes shimmering through the water, staring at him as he was pulled deeper and deeper down. They all seemed to be approaching him, moving slowly through the ink black water, and that's when he heard the loud siren like shrieking coming from his other. 

 

He’d let him go, but too stunned by the sound and lacking any hope of being able to reach the surface before he was dragged back down left Bruce static in the water as his other moved in front of him, an arm thrust out as though to shield him from harm. Another scream erupted from his throat and the eyes in the water finally retreated, leaving nothing but emptiness in their wake.

 

Despite how deep they were, Bruce could see the merman before him clearly. He seemed to glow, with delicate tendrils of light etching along his tail, the milky white parts of his skin shining with a ethereal hue, almost blue in colour. Despite his beauty, Bruce could sense the power behind it. See it in the way his muscles rippled along his skin, with scars long and jagged running across his body and tail. The ones on his arms paled in comparison, his tail was marred with divets of freshly healed flesh.

 

He was being observed he realised, his other swimming around him, his hands tailings along his neck as though in search of something, though never attempting to restrain him. Bruce wondered if that wasn’t part of the fun. To have their prey attempt to flee and taking a perverted pleasures catching them all over again.

 

He didn’t have to worry about that possibility as Clark was quickly beside him, much to the shock of his other who seemed to recoil at the sudden appearance. The eyes were back now, seeing another body floating in the water too much for them to resist. His other was away from them both. Circling them with his body, a chorus of screams loud and fast repeating over and over. 

 

Bruce couldn’t help but stare as one of the eyes came forward, a young looking thing, and lunged at them.

 

His neck was snapped, as the light in his eyes died instantly. His body began floating its way upward alongside them as Clark swam them both easily though the water towards the boat. They weren’t followed, as the other mermaids seemed more eager to take on his other than to try and attack them again.

 

As he was flung onto the boat he gasped for air. Thankfully he hadn’t be dragged too deep, he didn’t want to deal with compression sickness right now, and he sensed Clark had thought the same thing as he gave him a once over. “You okay?”   
  
Bruce, too busy sucking back mouthfuls of air, only nodded. Clark looked down at the water, a look of fear spreading across his features.   
  
Bruce watched him, the image of his other being swarmed by the hundred pairs of eyes causing a quiet plea to fall from his lips. “Help him.”   
  
Clark dove back in and Bruce tried to move away from the edge of the deck, fearing the very real likelihood of a screaming thrashing merman landing on his lap any second now.

 

He was correct for the most part. There was a lot of screaming, and thrashing, but not a lot of it ending up on his lap.

 

The screaming was louder outside of the water, piercing Bruce to his core. The trashing looked volatile enough to knock even the strongest of men aside and yet Clark threw Blue across his shoulder in a single swing, walking into the boat and after a moment calling out again. “Hey if you’re done nearly dying, can you help me in here?”

  
Bruce got up, his legs shaky. It was only the appearance of bodies starting to float on top of the water that pushed him inside. His voice was surprisingly even as he spoke. “You weren’t lying about the corpses.” 

  
Clark barely looked up at him as he tried to pull a sheet of plastic over his bed, as Bruce watched him struggle he came forward and tried to flatten the material allowing Clark to set Blue down onto the mattress, only appearing slightly annoyed by the whole situation. “Yeah by the time I got back down to him he was causing hell. I took him out of the water for their sake rather than his.” He did however falter at the sight of the blood slowly pooling on the plastic. “They got a few scrapes in though. Grab the first aid kit will you? In the cabinet over there.”

 

When he returned with said kit, Clark made quick work of the cuts, suturing the wounds with a practiced ease. “You’ve done this before.” It wasn't a question, Clark didn’t so much as stumble as he cut the thread with his teeth and went onto the next cut.

 

“He's a fighter. First time I found him was when he washed up on the beach.” Blue whined as Clark pushed the needle into the flesh. “I thought he was dead. Brought him into my house and was gonna call some researchers to come and get him, but then he starts screaming like a banshee and I…” he put down the needle and ran his finger along the nearly sewn stitch. “I didn’t end up calling them.”

 

Bruce didn’t press further waiting for Clark to finish up. Once he did, he stood up and heaved a sigh. “We better head back to land, I need to soak him.”   
  
“Soak him?”   
  
“Yeah, just something I came up with after his first near death, and perfected after the hundredth.” 

 

Clark walked out of the room, brushing past him, and immediately Blue turned on him, hissing and attempting to move across the plastic before slipping unceremoniously to the ground, another pitiful whine following as he did. Clark quickly returned and rolled his eyes. “What is up with you today?”

 

Blue reached for him and gave another whine. Clark shook his head, ushering Bruce out as he did and ignoring the screaming now coming from within. “He’ll be fine.” Clark said with a wave of the hand, only jumping slightly as a pounding began against the door. “Maybe just keep away from the door.”

  
Which is how Bruce ended up on the deck again, sat by the doorway as Clark slowly got them back to shore.    
  
Eventually his other did stop his attempts to knock the door down, though it was only when the boat came to shore and the engine cut off. Bruce made his own way onto the dock, shortly followed by Clark with Blue held in his arms. He didn’t restart his protests upon seeing Bruce, much to the mans surprise. Instead he seemed oddly calm, his tail wrapping around Clark as they went into the shack.   
  


If there had been little room with just the two of them, there was now next to none with the edition of a third body. Clark set Blue on the bed, no time nor room for a plastic tarp and slid a metal tub out from beneath the cot and lifted it over his head. “Gonna go fill this with sea water.” He stepped forward and paused. “Don’t, you know.” He wiggled his brow.

 

He frowned at the gesture. “What?”   
  
Clark rolled his eyes. “You know. Make him angry.”   
  
Bruce huffed a breath at the idea that he was in anyway in control of how his other reacted. “Believe me if I knew what set him off, I wouldn’t do it.”       

 

Clark only shrugged, as he slipped past Bruce to get to the door.

 

It was then, as Blue’s eyes filled with fire and he wriggled off the bed that Bruce realised the now very obvious cause for his anger.

 

Touch.

 

Clark paused in the doorway, his eyes wide in surprise at the merman’s renewed bout of fury. He was setting the metal tub down, and moving toward Blue, trying to lift and settle him back onto the bed. There was blood on him, Bruce noticed. The wounds were reopening. “God damnit. What the hell did you keep doing?”

  
“Touch.”   
  
“What?” Clark turned his head by a fraction, and this was not the thing to do as Blue was renewing his swipes in Bruce's direction.   
  
“I touched you, on the deck. That’s why he pulled me down. Then when you were trying to walk past me on the boat, and now when you…” Bruce said, letting the sentence hang in the air. He waited for Clark to respond to it and eventually he did. Though not in the way Bruce expected.

  
Clark grabbed the thrashing merman by the head and pulled his lips onto his, holding him there.

 

It was astounding how quickly the fight left him. As though his whole of his body went limp. Clark pulled back, and though no words were spoken between the two, Bruce knew what was being said. The emotion behind it.

 

_ “Maybe he loves me back.” _

 

Watching the two, like this, something clicked for him. Somehow he knew the merman wasn’t just being territorial when he attacked him, knew that he didn’t want Clark dead or to toy with him, he knew just by looking at the two. The way his other lay back against the bed, a hand lingering on Clark’s. The way his eyes closed, showing how at ease he felt. Seeing that showed him that any fear Clark had was for nought.

  
Clark got up and quickly picked up the metal tub, walking past Bruce and keeping as much distance from him as he did.    
  
Blue didn’t try to attack him again, thankfully, though still kept his eyes on Bruce. 

 

His stare no longer seemed hesitant or even irate. If anything there was a hint of curiosity, as though the idea that Bruce was no longer a threat meant Blue could see him for what he actually was. An anomaly.  

 

Bruce for the most part was simply happy he no longer had to worry about sudden attacks from the merman. The idea of even being able to learn more about him came into his head. 

 

If it were even possible. 

 

The lack of communication was unnerving. It was something he hadn’t even taken into consideration. Meeting your alternate self, you’d think you’d be able to speak to them, and yet here he was. Standing across the room from himself with only a vague notion of what was going on inside his head. 

 

If only there was a way to understand him. To know more about who he was here. It was as though that idea was just out of reach. Obtainable only with the proper tools at his disposal. 

 

He looked down at his arm, his eyes trailing along the intricate carvings on the shialis. He had a tool, sure, but his general lack of understanding of it left him with a whole lot of hypotheticals and not a whole lot of answers. 

  
Clark came in and set the tub down in the middle of the room. He went to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a small bag, shaking its contents into the water before easing Blue into it with relative ease. It was then that Bruce saw Clark hadn’t just been filling the tub with sea water, he’d been retrieving the haul of fish from the boat as well. Clark caught Bruce’s curious stare, and answered with a smile. “Hope you're hungry. We caught a lot.”   
  
Yes. He was. The beer and the general excitement of the day meant Bruce was able to ignore the fact that his body had been running on fumes. The bread was long gone, and the idea of fish cooked meer hours after being caught had him salivating more than he cared to admit. Clark gestured to the bed. “It’s gonna take me awhile to scale and clean em, you can lay down if you want.” 

  
Did he look as fatigued as he felt? He wondered if Clark was concerned for him or knew there was nothing else for him to do in the small room other than sleep. Either way he moved past Clark, careful to keep his distance and lay down on the damp cot, his body already relinquishing him to sleep before he even had a chance to pull the blanket over himself.

 

He was lost in a hazy dream, filled with water and piercing eyes. He could have sworn he’d heard a voice, but in the expanse of water it was distorted, distant, and no matter how much Bruce swam towards it, it never became clearer. The eyes never came closer. They were always there, watching him as the sad song rung out around them.

 

The smell of fish woke him, and as he got up the tendrils of the dream held on. When he looked to his side, Blue was further reclined into the water of the tub, his neck and mouth under the surface and his eyes closed. Clark stood by the small stove, quietly flipping over fish fillets and turned when he heard Bruce shift. “You're up.” He said. “Good, fish will be ready soon.”   
  
“Is he asleep?” Bruce asked, as he regarded the still form in the bathtub.   
  
“Yup, he nodded off shortly after you. He gets bored sitting in the tub.”

 

Bruce nodded, and looked at the merman closely. His wounds seemed to be looking better already, and Bruce had to marvel at the flesh. “His wounds.” He said simply and Clark turned back around, making a noise of agreement.

  
“Oh yeah, they heal quick in water.” He set a plate of fish in front of Bruce and waved his hand for him to eat before turning back to the stove. “I put some extra stuff in there when I soak him though, ground seaweed and sponge. Things like that. Don’t know if it helps, but I like to think it does.” 

  
Bruce nodded before he dove into the plate of fish and felt himself moan involuntarily as the taste of garlic and dill burst into his mouth. The fish was tender and light and it wasn’t long before he’d finished his first plate and Clark was pilling on more for him. “I wasn’t lying when I said there was plenty.” He said as he reached for another fish from his pile of cleaned ones and set it in the pan. 

 

“Aren't you going to have some?” Bruce did feel a bit guilty eating all of Clark’s bounty as the man in question was left to sweat over a hot stove.    
  
“Maybe.” He said with a shrug of the shoulders. “You have what you want, and i'll have the rest.” He looked to the sleeping merman. “Now that I think about it, Blue is probably hungry too.” He reached for the pile and this time flung one onto him.   
  
Bruce tried not to laugh as his other thrashed at the contact, his eyes darting around the room before finding the cause laying dead on his chest. He glared at Clark from the water, a quiet growl escaping him. 

 

Clark gave a mischievous smile and though he seemed reluctant Blue reached for the fish and began nibbling on it. “He prefers it raw then?”    
  
He nodded. “As raw as possible. He doesn’t even like that I've cleaned it. See how he's nibbling?” Clark set the pan off the burner and reached into the cooler and picked out a fish, this one with its scales and head still on. This time he didn’t throw it, opting instead to lean over the tub and hand the fish to the merman.

 

His eagerness was apparent with how quickly he descared the cleaned fish, flinging it to the side as he grabbed and tore into the whole one, gnawing at his skull and sucking out the eyes. Bruce had to look away before he lost his appetite, or worse, the contents of his stomach.

 

He managed another plate before he told Clark he could have the rest. He was content as he lay back against the bed, and dozed as Clark ate his own food. He didn’t even realise he’d fallen asleep again until he cracked his eyes open and was greeted with a cool breeze and a dim cabin.

  
It was early evening, he could see the sun was setting though the open door. He was alone, the tub laying empty and the armchair cold to the touch. He got up and ambled his way towards the door, looking out at the shore and seeing Clark standing there, his feet in the water as he looked out towards the horizon.    
  
Bruce walked over to him and took in the view as he did. He was going to miss it, there was something about the beauty of this place that he knew was going to linger with him. “How long was I out?”

 

Clark took a moment to answer. “A few hours, Blue got restless so I let him back into the water.”

  
“Right.” Bruce nodded, keeping his eyes out towards the water as well. “I wanted to say thank you, for everything.”   
  
Clark looked at him, and gave a nod. “Any time.” 

 

There was so much to be said, so much that Bruce wants to get across, so much he could do if he were to stay, but he knew he couldn’t so he settled on. “I know it’s not much coming from me, but I really do think there is more to Blue than meets the eye.” He turned to him. “I really think he cares about you.”

  
Clark looked at him then, his eyes remarkable bright in the low light. “Bruce, coming from you it means everything.”

 

Bruce allowed himself a small smile as he looked down at his hands. “I should probably be heading off now.” He said quietly.

  
Despite looking away from him, Bruce could sense the surprise his words caused, though it was quickly disguised with a cough and a sharp nod of the head. “Right, of course. Back to you're universe I take it?”

  
“Yes. Back home.” Though the concept of home was becoming muddled for him. He tried not to let it dwell on him. Home was Gotham, home was his family. Home was not here, or anywhere he’d been to. He had to remember that, no matter what happened. 

  
“Well, it was nice to meet you.” Clark said stiffly, as he gave a brief turn of the head in his direction. 

 

“And you Clark.” Bruce said, stepping towards him and holding his gaze in his own. “See you.”

 

He breathed in deep, feeling himself going into the place he was becoming used to. The space between universes, a vacuous expanse that he could almost feel in his hands. Sense it as it danced and flowed before him.

 

As he reached for it, like he had done for the voice in the sea of his dreams, his vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through a massive rewrite about half way through writing it. I cut a lot out and rewrote the remainder of it, hence why it took so long to get it out. 
> 
> Anyway, mermaids! I do love me some nautical Superbat. I've read a few mermaid fics in the DCU, but I've not come across 'vicious killer mermaid Bruce' and 'curmudgeonly sea weary Clark' before so it was a lot of fun to explore that dynamic. Also I wanted to keep a lot of things about this universe a mystery because, in case it has not be clear due to my lack of updating leading you all to thinking I'm a half dead goldfish with no work ethic, I do have plans after this fic, namely of Bruce revisiting certain universes and doing some more meddling. So if things have been left unanswered, that's the reason. ;) 
> 
> Anyway, Bruce is off again! Where oh where will he end up next?
> 
> As always, comment and kudos if you're enjoying and let me know if you have any ideas as to where Bruce will end up on his adventures. Ciao! :D

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah! Now Bruce is going to travel between different AU's until I say stop. ;3
> 
> Also I just wanted to add that whilst I have my own ideas on where I'm taking Bruce. I would love to hear if 'YOU' guys have any particular ideas on where you want to see him. If they're really interesting, you never know, I may end up writing it... ;P
> 
> Until next time! :D


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